Lamentation of a Dead World
by Saharas
Summary: Seras has reluctantly returned to England after her escape a year prior, with a new master in tow. With the shadow of war on the horizon, can she mend her ties with Hellsing, or her former master? Or will Alucard's past come to claim her? AxS Animeverse
1. Chapter 1: Pawns

And so, the authoress emerges from the darkness of hiatas-dom and returns a writer once more! I'm sorry to everyone who's waited for me to update my stuff. As you can see, Hellsing has caught my interest and therefore holds the key to my inspiration. Be at ease, ye faithful readers; updates are not to be long in coming. Hellsing and all related characters(except for the ones I've made for this story) belong to Kouta Hirano. Story belongeth to moi.

* * *

London. There are few cities who can attest to its splendour, even the cobblestones renowned world-wide for their cold magnificence. But there are even fewer who can claim to have been a battleground for the two ruling species of the planet. A battle that started long before the hunt for Frankenstein, or even the slaying of dragons by foolish knights. Humans, on one side, known for their grasp on technology and intelligence but also for their naivety. At the moment, they are leading the race for survival, although most are not aware of there being a battle at all. On the other side, there are the Monsters. Ghouls, ghosts and creepy-crawlies alike with powers and desires considered 'unholy' by the entirety of the human race. They, unlike the humans, know quite well of the war they struggle to win each night on the streets of England.

Monsters were not always so hateful towards humans. In the beginning they saw humans as kinsmen, and were kind and gentle with these fragile creatures. But the fragility of mankind is never more apparent than in their minds. They feared and envied the powers of the Monsters, and saw them as obstacles in the path to glory and happiness. It was not Monsters who first raised the bloody flag, but humans. Weak, terrified humans transfixed by their own greed.

But the Monsters of today are not the timid creatures they once were. They are malevolent, long ago having discovered the pleasure and power of war and human flesh. They are instinctively drawn to this dark country, where they can smell the blood of their kindred spirits and lament the passing of great Immortals. And humans cannot do anything but defend themselves against an enemy they've forgotten they provoked.

That particular night found a dark pavement road visited by an unfamiliar figure. A woman, dressed surprisingly light for such a chilly night, let her footsteps echo across the street where she knew they were not heard. To the world, she did not exist.

She wore a plain green t-shirt, camouflage cargo pants and black boots, the simple attire contrasting with the feminine curves of her body. Her hair was the colour of honey and pulled back into a short, almost spiky pony-tail. Her skin was pale, reflecting the light of the full moon above. To most, based on this description, she could have passed as a normal eighteen-year old quite easily, but for three things: She had a belt around her waist carrying nearly a dozen different weapons, a large shotgun strapped to her back and large, red eyes, glaring at the world. Suffice to say, not a normal combination.

The woman traveled onwards, finding her way easily despite the lack of lighting. She found her way to a dark, secluded alleyway and stopped. Then she looked upwards, at the bright red sky that seemed to cloud the stars and embrace the moon like a long-lost lover. A sky that reminded her of another night long past.

But her reverie was interrupted by the sound of shuffling footsteps and angry hisses. Despite the sudden intruder she did not turn, only remained standing and staring skywards. The woman knew without seeing who this man was: a weak vampire with a nasty habit of killing children and was wanted by several organizations across the world. Including her own.

The vampire, dressed in rags and breath smelling of fresh blood, waited a moment before descending upon her, fangs bared. She did not even flinch as the fangs sunk into her arm, letting the filth realize that he would not find sweet human blood but dark, venomous poison.

She pulled a pistol from her belt as he recoiled from her, spitting out the poison when he found it burned his mouth. She raised the gun to his forehead, eyes unblinking.

"What the hell?!" the vampire exclaimed when he found his green eyes matched by red ones. "You're a vampire, too?" The woman's eyes narrowed, not in anger but in disgust.

"Don't compare me to you, scum." She said before pulling the trigger.

* * *

The woman stepped back out into the dimly lit street, wiping a streak of black blood from her arm as it healed. Just as she was about to turn the corner a sharp beeping noise indicated her cell phone was ringing. She grabbed it and held it to her ear.

_"Yo, Seras. What's up?"_ the voice asked.

"I'm pissed off, that's what's up." She snarled into the receiver. "I explicitly tell you people that I want to stay _out_ of England, and where do you send me?"

_"Whoa, whoa! Don't spaz out on me; I'm just your Linkmaster. Take it up with the big cheese."_ The man on the other end said. _"By the way, how did the purification go?"_

"The stupid bastard was weak. Can you please get a plane ready for me before I freak out? Being here any longer could put me in big trouble."

_"Sure, just a sec."_ The man replied, and then there was a pause. Seras tapped her feet impatiently, worried at the pregnancy of the silence.

_"Uh, Seras?"_ he asked, hesitantly. _"I kinda have some bad news."_

"I swear to God, Joshua, if this is what I think you're about to say-"

_"It's Malcolm. He's e-mailed me, saying there's gonna be a vampire at this big ball tonight. The Queen's there and everything!"_

Seras swore, resisting the temptation to crush the cell phone. But she controlled herself long enough to hiss,

"Let me guess. Hellsing's gonna be there. And that's why Malcolm wanted me in England in the first place: so I'd have to go."

_"Pretty much. Look, Seras,"_ Joshua said, voice containing a hint of concern, _"If you don't think you can handle it-"_

"I can handle one stupid vampire well enough, Joshua." Seras barked into the phone, picking up her pace. "But I joined up with you guys so I would have some security against you-know-damn-well-who. And after a year of service you throw me to the lions!"

Seras sighed, static greeting her ears and letting her know her words were ill-chosen.

"Look. I'll do it, all right? Quick in-and-out job, right?"

_"Yep. Plus, I'm sending over your coffin. Got it all tricked out, just for you babe."_

"Thanks." Seras replied, turning her gaze once more to the foreboding sky as her gut wrenched. She prayed with all her might that the ominous evening would not be her last.

* * *

_Just once,_ Integra thought, a migraine gnawing at her skull, _could we have an uneventful night?_

Integra glared down at the mess before her. Several women were drenched in pink punch, clinging to their partners in distress. Their partners were similarly covered in sticky juice, and just as upset and irritated. But no one was more so than the young, sharp-faced woman situated in the middle of the disaster area, anger and humiliation flooding her face even more so than the ugly concoction staining her blue satin dress.

"Alu!" The girl shrieked, pounding her gloved hands down on the hard tile floor. "How could you?!" The black locks fell around her face as her eyes filled with tears.

Her cries were pointed at a very tall man, wearing a black tuxedo and yellow sunglasses that, surprisingly, suited him very well. His mid-length black hair contrasted with his unnaturally pale complexion, and it was painfully obvious how much he was struggling to keep a delighted smirk from gracing his hard features. Integra stood beside him, wearing a plain green dress and shooting him an angry glare.

"Alucard!" Integra growled irritably, "Must you always cause such a fuss?"

"My deepest apologies, Master. And to you, Lady Ashcroft," came the reply, deep in voice and hardly apologetic. He held out a hand to the woman, who took it and stood up with great theatrics.

"When I get back, _Alu_," she said, and Alucard cringed at the disgustingly affectionate pet name, "I expect you to accept my greetings a little more gratefully. After all," she sniffed, pulling her wet hair behind her ears with great disdain, "It is not everyday one has the chance to speak to one such as myself."

With that, she daintily stepped over the struggling guests, gave a little bow to the enthroned and slightly bewildered host and left to seek out a restroom. The atmosphere in the room seemed to lighten considerably at her departure.

"And, with that," Alucard grinned malevolently, fangs glinting in the bright light of the ballroom, "The she-demon makes her exit."

"Come here." Integra snarled, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the wreckage. Butlers and maids were already hard at work, apologizing to guests and directing them to the restrooms with new clothes in tow. The Queen overlooked the entire disarray, nodding to her other guests to resume the frivolities. No one dared to disobey, and so the ball continued.

"Would it have been too much to ask for you to have let Miss Lydia hug you just this once?" she hissed at him, and his eyebrows furrowed in discontent at the thought. "You didn't have to dodge her, and thus create a frightful debacle!"

"I believe I already apologized, did I not?" he said, adjusting his sunglasses. "Can I help it if I have Gorgons chasing after me?"

"Call her a Gorgon to her face and I'll ship you to the sun. I've no desire to deal with her father, that pompous Lord Ashcroft." Integra said, and then turned her eyes to the Queen's throne. The ballroom was truly a sight to behold, glistening as if lined with pearls and diamonds, which wasn't far from the truth. The throne was gilded with gold and rubies, and upon it sat the Queen of England. She was dressed in regalia befitting her status, a pale violet gown embroidered in delicate designs and decorated with various gems, not to be outdone by the tiara adorning her head. But Integra's eyes wandered to the man standing beside her, dressed formally but nothing suiting a lord or ambassador. His eyes were shifty, his stance rigid and tense.

"Does he seem… nervous to you, Alucard?" Integra asked, gesturing with a flick of her wrist.

"One would think so. He's the Queen's lead advisor, after all. Such an event puts her at great risk for assassination." He looked down at his partner with a sly grin. "Does he make you uncomfortable? I could easily-"

"No." Integra silenced him with her command. "It's just-"

She looked at the man again, her eyes narrowing. Her intuition told her something was off about that man, but it was probably nothing to be concerned about. Still…

"It's nothing. " Integra finished, forcing the thoughts from her mind. Walter was outside, patrolling the grounds with two hundred of her best men. There was nothing to fear.

Or so she told herself, forgetting the suspicious man as the ball wove its entrancing spell over the attendants and pushed uneasy thoughts to their depths.

* * *

_"Take a left. Now, a right."_ Seras heard from her headset. _"You're almost there."_

"How much time have I got left?" She asked, the wind ripping through her hair as she weaved in and out of the late-night traffic. She was decked out in full battle-armor: her plain green clothes were replaced by a slim-fitting tank top and leggings, and around her chest was a leather sash, on which were attached grenades and several ammunition clips. She sat on a black motorcycle, and attached to either side of the motorcycle were guns of several styles and sizes, none of them recognizable for they were customized in such a way as to be effective for vampire use. The motorcycle itself was made of a strange black metal that contoured to suit Seras perfectly.

_"Just over five minutes, if our little snitch was telling the truth. That vampire is going to bite the Queen at midnight."_

"Why on earth would he do that, anyway? That's just asking for it."

_"Apparently he's part of a vampire terrorist organization called 'Purity's Blood.' They're really gung-ho about Hellsing killing off England's undead population."_

"Great. So why am I here?" Seras demanded, swerving out of the way just in time to avoid careening into a truck.

_"One, you're still technically a British citizen. Dead bodies can't get our citizenship. Two, Purity's Blood in an international terrorist organization. They've already hit the homes of some vigilante vampire hunters back home, so we can hunt em' down if we darn well feel like it."_ Joshua answered. Seras was about to argue, but decided against it.

"Whatever, just so long as I'm not staking out somebody else's turf. Nice job on my coffin, by the way." Seras said into the headset, patting the bike affectionately. "She's never looked better."

_"Yeah, well, I couldn't send you to a family reunion with a hunk of crap, now could I?"_ Joshua replied, and Seras heard the flurried sound of computer keys. _"Almost there. There's a perimeter set up, but if you use an R-type screen you'll get in no problem."_

"All right." Seras nodded, speeding up her bike with both anticipation for the hunt and dread for what she knew was coming. She could already sense the familiar presences she feared as she drew closer to the brightly lit building, and her only consolation was that she had taken many measures to prevent them from sensing her as well. Otherwise, she would never have made it to England without _his_ knowledge.

* * *

"You've been unusually quiet this evening, Alucard." Integra stated, chewing on her cigar thoughtfully. The party had resumed its vigor, but she had no taste for parties like these.

"Does it displease you? I had no idea you loved the sound of my voice so much, Master." Alucard smirked, teasing her in that evil way of his.

"Is it because of Miss Victoria?"

The grin on his face weakened to become more like a scowl.

"Why would you say that?"

"A gut feeling." Integra replied, letting a breath of smoke escape her lips. "It has been a year, hasn't it? Are you still bitter?"

Alucard chuckled. "'Bitter' is an interesting way to put it. I would choose 'amused', myself."

"Sulking for three months is your way of being amused?" she asked. "I would hate to see you actually sulking, then. I do believe you took ten years off Walter's lifespan with those ugly antics of yours. Not to say he wasn't upset when Police girl left, of course."

Alucard didn't reply. He let his ruby eyes roam to the skylights, staring out into the sky above.

"What a perfect night." He said and smiled, the act causing tremors of cold dread to crawl up Integra's spine.

* * *

_"Three."_ Joshua's voice stated.

Seras shoved ammunition into the barrel of her rifle with a satisfying set of clicks.

_"Two."_

She pulled a small glowing container from a pouch on her ammo strap and pressed several buttons on its side, causing it to light up and beep.

_"One."_

Seras prayed to the Almighty that she make it out of this alive… or as alive as she was now.

_"GO!"_

Seras threw the container she held out into the middle of a party of patrolling Hellsing officers from behind a large tree. The Hellsing officers noticed the object just in time to see it release a huge cloud of bluish-green gas that swept over the surrounding area like a tidal wave.

Seras took her chance and leapt out from the tree, running as quickly as she could towards the huge doors while still holding her rifle in one arm. The soldiers barely noticed; not only did the gas blind them, it caused them to fall to the ground, unconscious but unharmed.

In the disarray one man suddenly charged at Seras, blocking her from the doors. She was surprised, as most people could barely think when subjected to this gas. It was designed to be effective against enemy humans and civilians who got in the way during purifications: made to render them useless but not to injure. Her superiors refused to condone taking human life, for any reason.

"I'm afraid I can't let you enter." The man said, his mouth muffled by the handkerchief he held over his mouth. He couldn't see her very well, but Seras saw him clearly: another perk of being a vampire. He was dressed in attire befitting a caretaker of some sort, and he wore a monocle over his left eye. He appeared to be in his fifties, if the wrinkles lining his face were anything to go by, but his build and movements betrayed an untapped fountain of youth. The sight was enough to make Seras's undead heart flutter, as she realized she _knew_ this man.

_Oh, god,_ _it's _Walter_!_ Seras cried out in her mind, distress suddenly tearing at her insides. The kind, gentle man who had been like a grandfather to her at Hellsing. Her one, true friend in her old life. What cruel karma had she racked up to be pitted against him, of all people?

A shred of good fortune was still visible, however; he could not see her. He couldn't tell that this intruder was Seras, and so she wouldn't have to see the look of sorrow and pain crease those gentle features. Above all else, she hated those she cared about being hurt by her actions, one of the few things that had not changed with her "rebirth".

"As the retainer of Hellsing," Walter said, tying the handkerchief around his face, "I cannot allow you to endanger our beloved Queen. Stand aside or I will be forced to take action."

He flicked his wrists and a net of almost invisible steel fibers rose up from the ground and caught her legs, each end attached to one of his gloved fingers like a puppeteer.

_No, not a puppeteer,_ Seras thought, desperately tearing the threads with her hands and breaking into a sprint towards the doors, _a spider._

But tiny threads still clung to her clothes and skin, and they burrowed into her flesh like snakes. Every time she neared the doors he would feel the tension and yank on them, sending her flying towards him and into another metal web. And each time he did so, she would rip the threads and try again.

_I've barely got two minutes left. There's got to be another way!_ She thought, eyes searching the area with as much focus as she could muster. The threads were deeply engraved into her skin, now, and the pain of trying to heal over them was excruciating. Then her eyes settled on a tree nearby, and an idea burst into her head.

Walter stalked towards her through the smokescreen, eyes watering from the exposure but keeping his determined composure. "I fear I have misjudged your character," he said, making small gestures with his hands and thereby tugging painfully at Seras's limbs, "I had assumed you were a weak human assassin, but it seems you are able to withstand a great many injuries. A vampire, perhaps?"

Seras did not answer him; speaking would just give her identity away. Instead she used all her strength and ran behind the tree, leaping up and around its long branches. She entangled the threads in the branches like a maypole, and as she neared the top she entwined the threads in her bleeding hands and pulled.

Walter was yanked forward strongly and hit the tree, not hard enough to injure but certainly enough to stun. Seras used the threads in her hands to cut off a small branch and, with some difficulty, tied the long length of fiber to it. Before Walter regained his senses she swung the makeshift pendulum like a tether ball around the tree, tying Walter securely to it without leaving the firm branch she stood on.

"Sorry." She whispered to the struggling retainer. Walter continued to thrash at his own bonds as she turned her remorseful gaze away from him and towards her goal.

The branch was parallel to one of the ballroom's windows, and close enough to jump from without difficulty. She readied her rifle and used the scope to look inside. Her line of vision was limited to the north end of the ballroom, where the Queen was seated. And, beside her, stood-

"Gotcha." She said, lowering the rifle with a pleased smile. Her prey, her purpose for being here. Once he was dead, she could go back home.

"Damn you!" Walter exclaimed, desperately trying to wrench himself from the tree. "If you lay a hand upon Her Majesty or Sir Integra I swear I shall-"

"Be at ease." Seras said softly, silencing him. "I'm _not_ here to killthe Queen of England."

_I'm going to save her. But not because she's the Queen- it's to prove to everyone I'm capable of living my own life._

"Who are you?!" Walter demanded angrily, and Seras felt another wrench of pain tear at her insides. She wanted so badly to comfort him, but doing that would be pointless. It'd be better to think her some strange enemy than a traitorous friend. "Who do you work for?!"

She ignored him as she crouched and allowed her vampire-self take over, gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes against the passing pain of her fangs lengthening and her muscles turning to steel cables, writhing underneath her dead, melting flesh. She needed to do this, as much as she despised it- she knew very well who was in that building. He overpowered her by at least a thousand times, and she needed every shred of power she had to get in and out as fast as possible.

Her whole body shuddered as she felt it release all her pent-up anxiety and worries like a dam, the dark waters of her existence drowning out the noise of the world in a symphony of both pleasure and pain. Her whole body was now a looming shadow, and she was acutely aware of the lilting wisps of black energy that now surrounded her, swirling around her changed body as extensions of her very soul.

_What will he think of me?_ She wondered weakly as her essence lifted her from the branch and into the cold night air. _I've sold my soul- I've become the thing I swore I'd never be. _Her red eyes opened, unblinking and viewing the world as a true creature of the night.

She launched herself through the air, letting the moon's glow embrace her, barely noticing the glass's feeble resistance against her entry. As of right then, she was no longer Seras Victoria; she was member of the undead, a vampire and Nosferatu of her own right, racing to face her own fears.

* * *

"One minute until midnight." Integra noted, thoroughly bored. "I'm rather surprised; I had expected some sort of attempt on the Queen's life, since this is the easiest time to do so. I suppose our security is more intimidating than I thought."

"Perhaps it is merely my infallible charms that keep them at bay." Alucard said, chuckling at his own little joke.

_He _does_ have a way of warding off attackers,_ Integra admitted grudgingly. _Otherwise I'd never have brought him here. My officers are more than capable of handling assassins._

"Speaking of infallible charms," Integra smirked, nodding in the direction of a small group of youths, "Is that not Miss Lydia making her way here?"

Alucard grimaced as he found her words to be true; Miss Lydia was forcing herself through the mingling couples in a determined attempt to reach him. She wore a disgustingly pink dress drowning in large ruffles and a fur scarf. Where she managed to find such an outfit, even he could not guess.

"Alu!" she called, her high voice resembling the shrill cries of a dying whale, "Alu, dearest! I'm baaack!"

"No kidding." He grumbled, just low enough to evade her hearing. Integra shot him a warning look.

Lydia seemed not to notice his animosity towards her, even as she latched herself onto his arm. She looked up at him, her green eyes boring possessively into his.

"Did you miss me?" she demanded, but she didn't give him a chance to reply, as she continued, "Of _course_ you did. Who wouldn't?" she asked, and though it was obviously rhetorical he had half a mind to answer.

Integra sighed. Had this woman no restraint? Her obsession with Alucard was somewhat acceptable, but to advertise her own arrogance was simply sickening. Integra decided to try and relieve poor Alucard from this misery, and quickly thought of an excuse to get rid of her.

"Miss Lydia, don't you think it's time to-" she began, but Integra didn't finish her sentence, as she was interrupted by the sounds of breaking glass and screams. The glass had come from one of the huge windows, and it was propelled with such force that Alucard had to block their way from harming the humans behind him. Had he not been ordered to protect the guests, he wouldn't have bothered. Inside his mind he cursed the weakness and stupidity of humans, causing him such a hassle for such tiny objects to pose such a troublesome threat.

"Eek!" Lydia shrieked, clinging to him. "What's happening, Alu?!"

A figure, cloaked in shadows, flew forward from the window in a burst of inhuman speed, past the guests and towards the Queen's throne. Integra barely had time to react, the black blur racing past her in huge strides barely visible with mortal eyes. The figure turned to look at her, and Integra saw blood-red eyes regard her with unreadable emotions in the few milliseconds it took to pass her line of vision.

"Alucard! Protect the Queen!!" Integra screamed, and Alucard burst into action. He raced forward, rapidly tearing his twin guns from the confines of his tux and passing the figure entirely, stopping a few feet in front of the Queen and turning to face the attacker. Several bodyguards regained their senses and threw themselves in front of their monarch, a weak effort compared to Alucard's looming presence.

The attacker halted immediately, only having reached the mid-point of the huge hall. The on-lookers backed away from this intruder, pressing themselves against the walls in an attempt to keep their distance. The figure, a creature of pure darkness, was only vaguely human-shaped and had two glowing eyes that narrowed at the sight of Alucard.

"It's been a while since I've fought a _true_ vampire." Alucard said, pointing his Jackal at it, his eyes flashing with insane glee. "This should be fun."

The figure suddenly ripped a long, elegantly shaped rifle from the depths of its shadows and held it along the length of its left arm, pointing it at him and hissing loudly. Huge, sharp teeth gleamed as it did so, and the feral expression only excited Alucard more.

Their eyes met, the distance between them meaningless. They both stood, still as statues but for the casual movements of the creature's flickering shadows.

Its slender, curving form told Alucard that it was female, but her thoughts were guarded so intensely from him that he was unable to discover anything else. The very fact that she was able to do so intrigued him, as few vampires were capable of mind-reading, even fewer able to combat it. She had to be _Nosferatu_; her ability to invoke enough darkness to change her form was proof of that. Or, at least, was sired by one.

"Such a waste." He said, almost regretfully, and fired.

The bullets ripped through the vampire's chest, taking her aback for a moment as the silver projectiles passed through her and into the wall behind her. But the holes in her body quickly sealed and she raised her rifle once more.

Alucard waited, seemingly for her next move. He was curious as to what sort of weapon she carried; he had an interest in all weapons of war, and he loved going against an armament he'd never encountered.

She suddenly released a silver bullet of her own, the slug barely grazing his shoulder.

"Is that all?" Alucard grinned, the tiny cut gone in the blink of an eye. "Your aim is worse than I-"

He was cut off by something behind him uttering an inhuman screech, followed by screams from the crowd. He turned his head and watched, surprised, as the man that Integra had pointed out turned to a pile of dust. The bullet had not been aimed at him, or even the Queen, but the shifty-eyed advisor, who had been a vampire all along.

He tore his gaze away from the remains of the impostor just in time to see the vampire racing towards the doors, but she was much slower this time.

"Running out of strength, are we?" he laughed, and took up the chase.

* * *

_Crap!_ Seras screamed in her head, running as fast as she could. _Not yet!_

She could only hold her true form for so long; otherwise, it drained her completely of blood and left her no better than a common corpse. The only option she had, now, was to summon her coffin-bike and get the hell out of there. Fast.

But she looked behind her and saw Alucard, her former master, hot in pursuit. Although he was dressed differently than usual, he had not changed; the same aquiline features, raven-black hair and chilling smile made up his profile. His movements were not laboured, like hers, but fluid. In every respect he outdid her, and the knowledge was nearly unbearable; that she, who had undergone so many trials to get where she was, would never come close to his power.

She felt the wind rush past her as she moved, stripping away her shadows and revealing more of her normal appearance with each stride. She was still a dozen metres away from the exit, and already her arms were back to normal. If this kept up, her identity would be given away and all her efforts would be in vain. Seras had no idea what the Hellsing organization did to runaways, but she gathered it wouldn't be nice.

Only a few feet separated her from the doors. She could dimly hear Integra barking out commands:

"Get the Queen to the safe room!" she screamed at her subordinates stationed around the room. "Alucard, capture that vampire! Alive!"

"Yes, Master Integra." Alucard replied in mid-stride, keeping his crimson eyes on his prey. Now the difference between them was a mere three feet.

Seras used the momentum from her running to bash through the wooden doors, turning them to kindling as she escaped. She noticed, frustrated, that the screen had dissipated and the officers were back on their feet. Strangely, none of them were attacking her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Walter, thankfully unharmed, calling out to Alucard as the two raced by.

"I'll leave her to you, Alucard!" he yelled, a grim smile pointed in the direction of his old friend. Alucard flashed him a smirk, already proclaiming himself victorious.

Of course, Seras would have none of that. Concentrating her mind, she called out to her coffin from where she had left it, in a garage two streets away. In her mind's eye she could feel the motorcycle shaking, desperately trying to reach her.

_Come!_ She shrieked in her head, and the bike rippled into existence beneath her body. It materialized from a cloud of fog, lifting her up and onto its steel contours, matching her body's speed effortlessly. When Alucard saw the motorcycle's sudden appearance his smile only widened, even as the bike sped up.

"I see you have some interesting toys." He noted aloud, and Seras tried very hard to ignore his arrogant tone, "Are you always so resourceful?"

She answered him by ramming her bike into the fence surrounding the building, even more of her shadowy disguise being stripped from her as she desperately sought a way to escape him. He followed her at a leisurely stride, even though they had taken their chase into the traffic of London's streets.

Her eyes darted back and forth, one part of her mind seeking a new route and the other preventing her from colliding with the few cars sprinkled on the endless roads. Her determination and calm had left her with her strength, and she knew he smelled her fear. Her grasp on the situation was rapidly slipping through her fingers.

"Won't you answer me? It's polite to introduce oneself, you know." He said, and she turned to look at him, her shadowed face thinning but not her irritation. Couldn't he see she was trying to drive?

"I hardly deem you worthy of politeness." She replied icily, masking her voice as much as she could. It wouldn't do to look too suspicious, after all.

The sudden retort seemed to catch him off guard. "I suggest," Seras continued, turned her bike to take them down a quieter road, "that you leave me in peace. I haven't hurt any of your comrades, and my mission just saved the Queen's life. I have no qualms with you or your organization." To further emphasize her disposition she raised her faithful rifle, pointing it at his head with a calmness that scared even her. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Is that so?" he purred, grinning lopsidedly, and she hesitated. Nothing she did could actually harm him, but the fear was still there, gnawing at her mind.

_How many times have you seen him killed!?_ Her logical mind shrieked at her. _This is no different; it'll delay him enough to let you go! What are you waiting for?!_

Her pause gave him a window of opportunity; he phased out existence before her eyes, shocking her from her inner debate and she looked around for any sight of him. His disappearance only added to her stress. Where had he gone?

"Little draculina!" his voice shattered her wonderment, and she abruptly spun her shadowed head back to her front and saw him standing in the middle of the road, casually holding his Jackal in her direction. He wasn't in the least bit perturbed by her bike's relentless movement, and actually grinned at her. A lunatic's grin, of course, carrying no trace of compassion or even sanity.

She instinctively set her hands on the bike's handles, prepared to change her direction if need be, as his expression held no indication of moving. What irked her most, though, was that he looked so damn _arrogant_.

"Let's even the battleground, shall we?" he called out, and abruptly fired his Jackal with deadly accuracy. His aim was not at her, but at the front wheel of her bike, which abruptly exploded into tiny pieces of rubber. Seras lurched as the front of her bike nose-dived into the pavement, leaping off just in time to avoid the bike's collision with a telephone pole. The explosion sent her otherwise graceful descent into a tailspin, the pressure knocking her to the ground.

She swore, finding her feet and knees on solid ground once again and looking back at the remains of her coffin-bike, the stored weapons streaks of melted metal on the sidewalk.

"Well, so much for that plan." She murmured angrily, and then she saw black boots, still and waiting, a mere foot from her face. Seras gasped, surprised at how close he was now.

She looked up at Alucard. He looked triumphant, the epitome of gleeful spite blaring down on her at her predicament. It was only then that she realized the heat and wind of the explosion had stripped her jaw of her shadow-essence, and the rest of her face was following suit.

Panic clutched at her heart, and she whirled around to make a run for it. She could not, under any circumstances, allow him to catch her!

But he was faster, much faster. In the moment it took her to turn her head, Alucard had grabbed the collar of her shirt and wrenched her upwards, trapping her in his gloved grip and dangling her from the ground. She writhed against him, clawing at his arm, but he just chuckled.

"Struggling won't do you any good; I'm many years your senior, young one." He smirked, lifting his other hand to her half-concealed face. "Let's end your little charade."

He passed his hand over her face, shattering the fragments of her disguise with one subtle movement. Seras squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her strength melt, and she fell limp in his grasp. She was doomed.

* * *

He held the girl high in the air, waving away the troublesome shadows that tried to hide her from him with his gloved hand. At first, he saw the obvious; mid-length blond hair, pale skin, eyes scrunched tight at his stranglehold on her black shirt. Nothing particularly strange.

Then reality hit him square in the face; he _knew_ this woman. The face was unmistakable, the young innocence of her features perpetually painted there. Oh, there were some differences; her clothes, her hairstyle. But despite everything, her identity was obvious. His eyes widened for a moment with recognition, then narrowed, studying her from behind his yellow sunglasses.

"Police girl?" he hissed, disbelief grinding his former amusement into dust. She opened her eyes slightly, looking up at him. Her expression was that of a child, caught after stealing someone else's toy.

His grip tightened, and wrath of a sort he hadn't known in several centuries suddenly eclipsed thought. This woman, barely an _infant_ in vampire terms, thought to run away and then suddenly return without any thought to the consequences?

Alucard's arm shook with rage, his usually complacent expression now wild and angry, and he clenched his sharp teeth in an effort to control himself. She looked at him, meeting his glare with a frightened but stubborn gaze.

"Let me go." She said, not a plea, but a subtle and quiet command, laced with nervous tension. He did not answer, nor did his eyes falter in their capture of hers.

"You ran away." He said, and a tiny blush of shame touched her cheeks. "Why?"

She didn't answer, and he growled, giving her a shake. "Answer me, Police girl!"

"Don't call me that!" she snarled, the hatred in her voice surprising him. "I am Seras Victoria, and don't you forget it, Alucard!"

His other hand moved with astonishing speed, grabbing her throat and squeezing it.

"You _dare_ order me around?" he sneered, "You, my little fledgling, use my name so easily?"

She continued to glare defiantly at him, so that his temper only grew worse.

"You had the _audacity_ to try and escape your master, and now you return and expect me to indulge your misbehavior by _obeying_ you?!" He snarled, and Seras only stared, fear gripping her much tighter than his hands. "You are _mine_! My will is what keeps you here, and it was my interference that made you what you are! No matter where you are, or how powerful you become, you will always belong to _me_!"

Seras paled, watching him become angrier and more dangerous by the moment. She knew, instinctively, that what he said was true, but she had tried too hard to simply give in. With all the remaining strength she had, she said,

"You said the choice was always mine, Alucard. I chose to become a vampire, I chose to join the Hellsing organization, and then I chose to run away. And I am yours no longer."

Alucard just stared at her, their gazes locked for what seemed an eternity. He searched her face for a trace of uncertainty, but it was not there. What she said was not a lie; he could no longer feel their blood-bond, and her thoughts were guarded from his with a power that was not hers. Did she have someone helping her?

The thought of her having a new master made him seethe with childish jealousy. It made sense; she could not have gained such power by herself, of that he was sure. But this stranger had simply waltzed in and fueled her rebellion against him, teaching her what was _his_ to teach? This trash had just earned himself a one-way ticket to Hell.

"Perhaps it was." He said, the words forced through clenched teeth. "Perhaps it _is_ true that you are no longer mine, and that you _have_ found some filthy scum to latch onto for protection."

His use of the term 'filthy scum' brought a new wave of fury to Seras's face, and she bared her fangs at him, forgetting for a moment the fact she was hanging in mid-air from his hand.

"He is _not_ scum." She hissed. Alucard pretended not to notice, but to be honest her protective reaction only added to his dislike for this mysterious new benefactor.

"But, Police girl," he growled, "whatever your reasons, whatever your petty little beliefs, you ran away."

He lowered his arm so that they were face-to-face, and Seras tried her very best to keep her composure before him. It may very well be her last time to do so.

"Did you think it was only my blood-bond to you that makes me your master?"

Seras's eyes widened at the question, looking at him with bewilderment and confusion. Of course that's what she thought; as her sire, she was bound to serve him until he chose to release her.

_Or,_ she thought, _until I found another way to break the blood-bond._ Which, she had. The meager drops she had acquired from him at the Tower of London would have freed her then, but she had been bleeding so profoundly at the time the blood had never made it through her system. For a while, she had remained enslaved to him. And so she had sought another way.

"I gave you your unlife, Police girl. I am your sire, and that will never change. And being your sire," he paused, studying her closely before his mouth curved into a smile, "even now, I have more power over you than you know."

Seras squirmed violently, her arms rising up to clasp his wrists in a weak attempt to make him free her. Her intuition told her whatever he had in mind would not pan out well for her.

"For example-"

His hand shot out, a blur to Seras's eyes, and slashed open the collar of her shirt, revealing the side of her neck. She immediately realized what he was doing and swung out wildly, akin a cornered animal. She pushed against his chest, but it did nothing against his slow descent to her neck. No matter which way she pulled, his grip was firm. To say she was frightened would have been a huge understatement.

"-I can make you my fledgling again, merely by restoring my claim on you." He said, and his mouth slowly advanced upon her neck. She was acutely aware of the scar he had left before suddenly becoming sensitive, throbbing in heat and pain as he drew closer.

"Please." She whimpered, and suddenly she was the same Seras of a year ago, powerless and meek. She had idolized him, then, as her savior and protector; the No-Life King, Alucard, her master. But now he was as merciless with her as she had seen him be with countless other vampires, a malevolent monster in the place of her former mentor.

_I brought this upon myself_, Seras thought, letting her body surrender its struggle as his mouth widened, revealing his fangs. _I should never have come here. I should have hidden myself away, rather than get involved in all this again. _

His fangs positioned themselves just above her twin scars, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Now," he hissed, "have you any last words, before I make you mine?"

Seras opened one of her red eyes and, with great effort, regarded him as coldly and detached as was possible. His eyes flicked to hers, for a single moment, and narrowed at the sudden change in attitude.

"You could never make me yours, you sick bastard." She snarled, teeth clenched in both disgust and fury. Never, not once, had she shown such utter undisguised hatred to anyone before. It scared her a little; to know that she had such rage inside her, and at any other time this knowledge would have strengthened her resolve to fight against that which was inside her. But now it meant nothing, poised on the brink of the abyss she knew was beckoning. If anything, her hateful glare and venomous words actually seemed to please him. His eyes glinted with spiteful glee, and his lips curved into a cruel smirk before revealing row upon row of gleaming teeth.

Seras closed her eyes one last time as Alucard sank his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck, and she fell into the world of dark nightmares once again.

* * *

**Reviews are welcomed, as always. Critique appreciated, but flames are not. **


	2. Chapter 2: Castles

**Second chapter, up for reading! I hope everyone has enjoyed the story so far. If anyone's wondering, Seras's running away was _not_ in the anime (or manga, for that matter). It's an event that will be explained later into the story. The whole story is Post-Incognito and may contain elements of other literature, which will be identified as the4 story progresses. Once again, I do not own Hellsing, but all original elements, characters and plots belong to me.**

* * *

_She was walking through a forest, the ground adorned with black leaves and withered plants. In the sky above no sun gleamed, and the moon was nowhere to be found. Not even a single star lit her way as she padded across the cold ground, only dimly aware of the snowflakes descending on the bare skin of her arms and face. She wore a simple, white dress; nothing worth notice. She did not know why she continued on, or even how she could see in a world without a celestial body to guide her way; she knew only that she must keep walking, no matter what._

_She looked around as she walked, searching for any signs of life, but not a single flower bloomed and there were no birds to sing. She did notice, however, the tiny forms of bats perched on the branches of the decayed trees, regarding her with cool, crimson-gazed intensity that sent shivers up her arms. Deeper still, into the black bushes, she noticed flickers of yet more red eyes dance across her line of vision, mocking her as she trudged into the thickest part of the forest. _

_She felt snow catch on her clothes and hair, but did not wonder why the flakes did not melt. She was beyond such naiveties, now. Instead she led her focus rest on a small, shadowed clearing ahead. As she stepped beyond the boundaries of the forest she saw a sea of gravestones, some simple where others were extravagant, crosses and angels entwined in webs of snake-like vines._

_And, in the midst of this cemetery, she saw a huge, stone monolith, double the height of any gravestone she'd ever seen. It seemed untouched by the trials of time, whereas the other graves were unkempt and weathered with age. But, upon closer look, she realized it was not a grave at all; it was a throne, carved with intricate, Gothic designs and topped with two gargoyles, resembling the messengers of hell itself. And upon it, sat-_

_She gasped, stepping back, and in the process slamming her legs into a tombstone behind her. There, draped over the stone contours of the throne, was him. Clothed in red, he smiled at her from underneath his fedora and had his hands folded atop one knee. _

"_Welcome to the landscape of our souls, Police girl." He said, freeing one of his hands to gesture around them. The snow became more adamant, and felt strangely heavy on her shoulders. "Is it familiar?"_

_She found she had no voice to answer him with, but it was just as well; he did not seem to expect a reply, anyway. He grinned malevolently, and stood to his full height. Then, just as she turned to flee, he raised a hand._

"_Come." He commanded, his arm outstretched. To her horror, her legs swayed and moved to obey him, no matter how vehemently she protested. They weaved her in and out of the rows of unmarked graves, and the snow began to pile up with great speed. As she moved, she grew more aware of her surroundings, and found the snow was not made of water. No, it was _blood_, raining all around her and burying the graves in its thick liquid. _

This must be a dream. Please, someone, wake me up!

_The red snow slowed her legs, but it did not stop her. She wobbled, her steps faltering, and felt her eyes violently ripped from the ground to meet his. All at once she felt rage and fear and relief; for reasons she could not guess. But he merely smiled down at her, and her arm rose to meet his without her volition. _

_Their hands met for the briefest of instants, as did their eyes. But with a sudden jerk he gripped her wrist and pulled her into him, trapping her body against his own. The action surprised her, widening her eyes and sending daggers of panic into her heart. He did not embrace her, and neither did she, for it was an act of intimidation rather than intimacy. _

"_How does it feel to be conquered, Police girl?" he asked, and before she could attempt to answer he suddenly morphed into a mass of black shadows, red eyes and gleaming teeth drawing her into his depths. Exhaustion and hopelessness gripped her, as she sank farther, farther…_

* * *

Seras sat up with a jolt, gasping for breath.

All around her was darkness, and for a moment she thought she was still encased in that cold nightmare. Would gleaming teeth be set upon her any second now, with red eyes to observe her torture?

But her eyes adjusted quickly to her surroundings and found it to be ordinary shadows. She raised a tentative hand upwards, and it touched hard wood. Relief swept over her, for this was a coffin, and she had been asleep. She must be back home.

She stretched, relaxing her body as she did so. Then, she pushed at the coffin's lid, fully expecting it to open at her will and allow her exit. But it didn't. It held fast, much to her surprise, and she frowned. She laid back down, coiled her legs and kicked, sending the lid off its hinges and into the darkness of the room.

Seras reached instinctively for her handgun under her pillow, but it was not there. In fact, she realized this coffin had nothing that adorned hers; her blue coverlet, red butterflies etched into the inside of the lid. And, as she peered around, she discovered that this was not her room. It was quite bare, and the few pieces of furniture were covered in dust. It didn't look like it had been used in years.

She looked downwards and found herself dressed in a somewhat familiar-looking nightgown, plain and white. It was nothing like her teddy bear pajamas that she always wore (but showed to no one).

She stepped out of the coffin, warily looking around. It came to her, after a few moments, that this was her _old_ room. Or, to be more precise, the one she used when she worked for Hellsing. This meant she was inside Hellsing manor.

She immediately tensed, and quickly made for the door. She reached out to touch the knob, but it burned her skin and she jumped back.

_It's made of blessed silver!_ She thought, rubbing her hand as it healed. After another experiment she found that the door was sealed somehow, and the same went for all the walls of the room. She was trapped.

"Hey!" she called out, hoping a maid or some stupid soldier might be near enough to hear. "Let me out!"

No one came. She reluctantly decided to wait; there wasn't any way for a vampire to leave, and they couldn't leave her here forever. They had to free her eventually, or at least come down to talk. It made her wonder what they planned to do; would they try to kill her? That was the most likely option, as she was pretty much a traitor.

She opened the closet to her left and found only one outfit; her old blue uniform. It being the only available change of clothing, she put it on, even though it brought back memories she did not enjoy in the slightest. Once it was on she ripped off the Hellsing insignia attached to the shoulder. No use being sneaky about it now.

Suddenly Seras heard someone knocking at the door. It was either Alucard or Walter, and at this point she didn't particularly care what they did. So she called out,

"I'd get the door for you, but my hand might explode."

The door creaked open, and Walter squeezed in, shutting the door quickly behind him. He looked wary, as if she would pounce on him at any moment, but Seras had no desire for violence and just stood still. Seras gave him a once-over, checking for any weapons or devices, but found none and so bestowed a complacent smile.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" he said. He looked a little stiff, and Seras noticed a few cuts and scrapes on his arms, covered up with bandages. She immediately felt bad for the previous night's skirmish.

"Yes, it has." Seras replied. He didn't seem too upset, what with his stoic expression, but then again, this was Walter. "By the way, I'm sorry for tying you to that tree." She gave him a concerned look, which he returned only with an emotionless one.

"Nothing to be concerned about." He waved off her apology, and an awkward silence followed.

"So," Seras said, breaking the tension and sitting in a nearby chair, "What happens now?"

Walter didn't answer. Seras, unerved by the awkward silence, persisted.

"I know I'm here for a reason. I'm not stupid, however naive I was in the past."

He stared at her for a moment, confusion on his face, before replying indignantly,

"I haven't heard anything about that. Now, if you would come along, Sir Integra would like to see you."

He rummaged around in his vest and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, covered in red writing. Seras obediently let him put them on, studying them curiously as he opened the door.

"So, I guess you guys aren't mad after all?" she asked as she followed him out of the room and down the hallway. But Walter looked back at her, and he seemed a little angry and annoyed. Her words were, yet again, badly chosen.

"I wouldn't go that far. You're still a traitor, if you don't recall." He snapped, and she was taken aback. But then she shrugged, trying to hide how much his tone hurt.

She knew quite well that she deserved whatever cold looks or cruel gazes that came her way, and was determined to stand tall and be strong against whatever blows they struck against her. The time when she had hidden behind others and sought excuses was over, and now she knew she must take responsibility for her actions in order to be given respect.

She had learned this the hard way.

* * *

Integra was waiting at her desk when Seras and Walter came in. She wore her normal green suit, and had a cigar between her teeth. She had fully expected to see Seras quivering as she had always done when entering her office, but was a little irritated when she saw Seras's calm demeanor and straight back. She must have acquired some self-confidence on her little escapade.

However, it would mean little with what Integra had in mind. Integra knew full well what Alucard had done, and made no attempt to overule his decision. Personally, she found it a huge relief that Alucard had reined in his unruly ex-protege, not only for the outside streets but also because she felt what had happened served as a constant stab to the integrity of Hellsing; that a lowly, weak, pitiful vampire had somehow escaped and eluded Hellsing, the best of the best when it came to hunting down vampires. Needless to say, it had been quite embarrassing telling the Queen about it.

But now she could interrogate Seras and, hopefully, answer the gnawing question they had all been plagued with over the past year.

"Ex-officer Seras Victoria." Integra said, eyeing her with contempt. "Your crimes are as follows.

"One: you deliberately allowed a vampire target to escape extermination, in the process injuring several superiors."

Seras tried to keep the ashamed blush from her pale cheeks, keeping her back straight.

"Two: you stole several dozen blood rations from our storage-house without permission.

"Three: you deserted the ranks of Hellsing, including your master, and went missing for the duration of fourteen months. All on the same day."

She stared at Seras, who held her head up high. Integra noted sourly that the Hellsing badge had been forcefully removed from her uniform.

"Have you anything to say for yourself?" Integra demanded.

"Indeed." Alucard suddenly interrupted, phasing through the left wall to stand beside his master. "What have you to say for yourself, Police girl?"

His appearance was abrupt, but not entirely surprising. Seras knew Alucard well enough to know he wouldn't miss a chance to watch her squirm, especially under the gaze of his own master.

Seras regarded them both coldly, before replying,

"I don't need to say anything to you."

Integra bristled in anger, and Alucard growled,

"Watch your words. I am your master, and Integra is _my_ master. Show some respect."

Seras looked at him with a pretend-bored face. Alucard found himself suddenly wishing for the meek, timid vampire he had turned, however much her lack of esteem had angered him in the past. Back then, she had constantly sought his praise and approval for every little thing she did, in the same way a puppy might fawn over its owner. Now she seemed more... feral, like a young wolf backed into a corner. Not submissive, but certainly frightened, and obviously ready to unsheath claws and fangs. It was odd, now, for even though a year ago he would have seen her behavior as progress, now he found it aggravating and worthy of contempt.

"I do apologize." Seras crooned with sarcasm, keeping all hints of fear from her feminine voice. "What I meant was that I really don't want to talk to trash like you, Alucard."

Before she could even blink he grabbed her handcuffed wrists with brutal strength, trying to intimidate her into submitting to his presence, but she didn't even flinch. He bared his teeth, but she didn't even react. And her lack of interest drove him insane with fury.

Seras looked up at her former master, and even though secretly she was frightened, his outburst seemed almost… desperate? Where was the Alucard she had known, emotionless and without conscience? Now he was all anger, like a child having a temper tantrum. It was sort of funny, in a sick and horrible way.

"Alucard." Integra said warningly, while breathing out dark fumes. Alucard reluctantly released Seras and she folded her arms, glaring at him.

"Perhaps," Walter interrupted, "if I may, it seems what we would like to hear is why you did these things, Miss Victoria."

Seras found herself under the scrutiny of three agitated vampire-slayers, and it became less comfortable to simply stay silent. She sighed, frustrated, and replied,

"Well, the blood packets are pretty obvious. You wouldn't want me robbing blood banks or hunting down civilians, would you? That would call attention to myself."

"The blood packets are _not_ the object of our investigation." Integra growled. Seras flashed a glare at her.

"Well, if you're gonna be so goddamn grumpy I'll just shut up then." Seras snapped, and made a gesture as if to zip her lips shut. Integra became even angrier.

"Do you think this is a joke?!" she screamed, making Walter and Seras jump. "I want to know who you're working for, why you left the Hellsing organization and why you saved the life of the Queen of England!"

Seras stared at her, then at Alucard. She couldn't remember them being so… emotional. They had always been cold and detached, like stone statues. She had cherished those precious moments when they had seemed kind; helping Walter prepare the weapons, the rare times her master had tried to train her, Integra's almost motherly gaze over the Hellsing employees. Seras had been the unrefined one, always screwing up and getting sentimental about her lost humanity. But now _she_ was the detached one, observing their actions in a light she had never seen.

But, despite all this, she could not go back to how things had been. No matter how badly she wanted to please them, to comfort them, she had betrayed their trust and no longer had that right. And so she faced down the storm she had predicted would occur.

"I am deeply sorry for all I've done." Seras said abruptly, lowering her head and staring at her boots. "You didn't deserve it, and it was foolish of me to leave like I did."

Apparently, no one had expected her to actually apologize and it took them by surprise. Alucard took the apology for submission and smirked triumphantly. Walter seemed to relax, somewhat, for he had no desire to see this inquisition turn into a bloodbath.

Integra eyed her suspiciously, hesitating. Then she stood.

"Very well." She said. "If you are truly sorry, and tell us what we want to know, perhaps I can arrange a pardon for your transgressions. I trust you haven't fed on humans, and saving Her Majesty more than makes up for-"

"What I should have done," Seras cut in, raising her red, defiant eyes to meet Integra's, "was to formally resign from the ranks before leaving. I am sure it left you a lot of nasty paperwork. And as for pardoning my 'transgressions'," Seras lifted her head, slowly meeting each of their gazes, "I have already been forgiven by the only person whose opinion actually matters to me. My master."

At that moment, Integra's phone abruptly burst into bouts of furious ringing. She grabbed it, clenching it in fingers trembling with rage. Alucard barely noticed the interruption; he was too busy holding his tirade of wrath in check. The seals on his gloves were glowing, straining to keep their prisoner's powers confined.

_How _dare_ she!_ Alucard wanted to show her just how merciless and cruel he could _really _be, how death could be mercy compared to _his_ idea of punishment. Pain was a weak word for what he had in mind.

Walter's face was a mixture of pain, anger and sorrow, adding new wrinkles to his aging face. And through it all Seras stood, staring straight ahead, holding back tears. Of course her words were a lie; she deeply cared about what they thought. More than anything did she want to be forgiven, but she had a duty now, and that was to her master. And as much as she wanted forgiveness, she needed her new master's care and assistance more.

Integra listened to the voice on the end, wordlessly, before slamming it down into its cradle.

"It seems," Integra said through gritted teeth, "your new comrades have come for a visit. With the Queen's royal assent."

* * *

Seras waited patiently in the office, trying to avoid Integra and Alucard's angry glares, for Walter to bring up their guests.

Soon the big wooden doors opened once more, Walter stepping through first and two men after him. One was your average anonymous bodyguard type, dressed in a black with a pair of black sunglasses holding a large briefcase. The other was less formal; he wore a dark blue suit with a polka-dot tie. He was probably into his early thirties, with dark brown hair and a thin beard. His face was friendly and welcoming, not unattractive, and his eyes were a dull shade of green. His eyes lit up when he saw Seras.

"Seras!" he cried, happily, and Seras returned his unprofessional outburst with a big smile. "I'm so glad to see you're well!"

"I am, thank you." Seras replied, waving her hands, showing him the handcuffs. "Could be better, but who's complaining?"

Alucard thoroughly scrutinized this new intruder. This man's essence was fiercely connected to Seras's, though he was pleased to note that it was not a lover's bond. Deep loyalty, though, which might prove difficult to shatter. But Alucard had the upper hand, after all, being Seras's sire and master once more.

He turned to face Integra and held out his hand.

"I'm Malcolm Porter, CEO of Porter's Alternative Pharmaceuticals."

"Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. The Hellsing Organization." Integra returned, ignoring his outstretched hand. "Let's cut the formalities; I take you to be here for Seras Victoria?"

"Well, yes." he replied, retracting his hand. "Our organization finds Seras to be an invaluable asset, and is my most loyal employee. But I understand that there's been some… tension, between Seras and Hellsing?"

Alucard snorted spitefully, and Seras rubbed her temples in frustration. This day had _not_ started out well.

"You might say that." Integra smiled grimly, glaring at Seras. Seras promptly turned her head away guiltily.

"But there's another pressing matter as well. I've heard from Seras that your organization has been dealing with a large number of chipped vampires as of late?"

"Malcolm!" Seras protested, looking at him pleadingly. He couldn't possibly be thinking of-

"That's correct." Integra replied. "In fact, our soldiers have found several production sites, and have dispatched more than our fair share of major players."

Malcolm nodded thoughtfully, taking the briefcase from the bodyguard. He placed it on Integra's desk and opened it with a flourish, revealing a sleek laptop and projector. He pressed a few buttons and the projector burst into life, bringing forth a hologram of a screen, streams of information coursing through as flickers of light.

"My company deals in the manufacturing of medical drugs." Malcolm said, touching the hologram lightly and causing it to portray a different slide of information, "But we also serve another purpose; as the Canadian Branch of Anti-Necrobiological Weaponry. More specifically, Canada's main line of defense against the Undead."

"Canada?" Integra muttered questioningly, to no one in particular. Seras could see her mind was in a state of deep calculation.

"We have been suffering an increasing number of FREAK vampires, and through our research we have found the FREAK signal being emitted by each chip. With this, we were able to find several rallying points for FREAK administrators, but every factory we came across was destroyed."

"I hardly find this information helpful." Integra pointed out, crushing her cigar in her ashtray. "Frankly, I think you're simply dancing around the point. If you have something useful to tell me, then spit it out."

Malcolm's smiling face waned for a moment, and then he shrugged nonchalantly.

"My apologies." He continued, touching the hologram again. This time it showed a picture of Incognito. "This vampire, Incognito as he called himself, was eliminated by Alucard, as you know. But what you do _not_ know is that Incognito was actually a member of a vampire terrorist organization called Purity's Blood."

The next slide showed a group of cloaked cultists, many of them baring the same kind of tattoos and mutated appearance that Incognito had. And all of them were vampires.

"Terrorist organization?"

"Yes. We believe Purity's Blood is actually behind the production of the FREAK chip. Purity's Blood was also behind the attempted assassination of the Queen, as well as the murder of several Canadian cabinet ministers. Their next move, I'm afraid, is against the Vatican." Malcolm said.

Integra bit on her fresh cigar in surprise. Seras slumped into a chair, watching everyone's reactions. Alucard looked positively ecstatic.

"How can you be sure the Vatican is a target?"

"We have a… informant, within one of the lesser groups." Malcolm replied, seemingly reluctant about divulging any more into the subject.

"If this is true," Integra said quietly, "Iscariot is going to need to be informed." It was obvious how much she hated the taste of her words.

"According to your treaty, that is." Malcolm sighed. "I'm not much for political squabbles, but if you'd like I could inform them myself."

"That won't be necessary. I'll enjoy seeing that pig Enrico Maxwell squirm when he finds out he's _indebted_ to me." Integra smirked. "But these terrorists are now our common enemy, and they have dealt themselves a terrible hand by trying to kill Her Majesty."

Seras raised her hands, still handcuffed, and everyone turned to look at her.

"Yes, Seras?" Malcolm said, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't mean to be rude, Master, but-" Seras said nervously, not oblivious to the livid look Alucard gave her at the title, "I think you've left out something important."

Seras stood up and, her hands still bound in the glowing handcuffs, expertly tapped the hologram. It now showed a satellite image, dotted with red spots.

"That's-" Walter started.

"England." Seras finished. "Notice how they're arranged?"

The red spots were aligned in a huge, perfect hexagon. The area they surrounded was…

"We believe the target area for the vampires is London. At least, for now. We think the attack on the Queen was meant to send the target area into a panic, making it easier to take the city."

Alucard remained motionless as the others continued their conversation. He felt no particular interest to participate, nor did he enjoy the fact his fledgling looked now to this human for praise as she attempted to explain the hologram's contents. Her eyes kept shifting from the screen to Malcolm's, who flashed her an approving smile. Gleeful thoughts of peeling the man's flesh, piece by piece, from his flailing and mangled bones placated his immediate rage, if only a little.

"Ingenious." Integra said under her breath, studying the image intently. "While we would be searching for outside enemies, they would attack from the inside. We would be utterly decimated."

"The next attack on the Vatican is likely to distract Iscariot with their own problems while London is taken. We've already taken precautionary measures with the Prime Minister and Governor General of Canada, but as we are still aligned with the Crown of England, it is our duty to do whatever we can to protect England and its inhabitants." Malcolm stated. "After all, Canada was once a colony of England."

Integra chewed her cigar thoughtfully, before demanding,

"Then I take it you are here to offer your services to us." She stated, and Malcolm nodded. But then she snarled bitterly, "But for what reason? Canada's loyalty to England is merely an illusion, kept alive only by a fake Governor General and foolish notions of how you served under us in WWI. For what purpose does Canada extend its hand to England?"

Malcolm looked taken aback at the sudden outburst. Then he stood straighter, eyeing Integra with determination and anger in his eyes.

"Because this is not simply an act of terrorism. We are looking at full-scale _war_, Sir Hellsing, and we find it our duty as Peace-Keepers to stop war before it ever begins. We extend our hand, not for the welfare of Canada or England, but for the sake of all innocents everywhere, because this war threatens to engulf every man, woman and child without discretion. Do you think vampires will care that we are Canadian, or that you are British? We are all equal in the eyes of our enemy, Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing. I ask your assistance in exchange for mine, so that we may defeat a common enemy."

Integra stared at him, speechless. The room was silent, but for the occasional nervous fidgeting.

Seras looked at her feet. It was a guilty hope, but she wanted Integra to simply dismiss them and be done with the whole thing. She had escaped Hellsing to find her own life, but now it seemed Malcolm was doing everything within his power to push her back into this world. And for what reason, she could not guess. Seras had told him numerous times that she never wanted to return to England, especially to Hellsing, otherwise she'd find another place to work. What motives could Malcolm have for bringing her here?

"Fine, then." Integra said at last, breaking the expression of surprise on her face and replacing it with her usual icy exterior. "I know full well what you want from me, Mr. Porter, so I, on behalf of Hellsing, accept your organization as our official affiliate."

Seras glanced up, surprised, as did Walter. Hellsing had never made an official alliance with anyone before. Hellsing had always prided itself for being an independent entity from the rest of the world, not even employing the police. Even the Vatican treaties were enforced by the Queen, and they were almost meaningless.

"You have my deepest gratitude, Sir Integra." Malcolm said, obviously relieved. The nearly-forgotten bodyguard suddenly appeared, holding a folder filled with official-looking papers.

Seras's mind reeled in bewilderment. Hellsing and CBANW were allies now? That meant she'd be teaming up with…

Seras quickly looked at Alucard, who grinned maliciously back at her. Dread swept through her, and she felt the world suddenly spinning out of her control. Apparently, asking for a quiet unlife was a wish wasted.

Meanwhile, the bodyguard opened the folder and presented the considerable amount of paperwork, obviously gesturing to Integra to take them.

"I suppose you'll want me to sign the documents, as well?" she asked, glancing meaningfully at the folder, taking the hint.

Malcolm smiled and pulled out a pen from inside his coat. "Yes, please."

* * *

**Reviews are liked, flames are not.**


	3. Chapter 3: Chancellor

**Third chapter! I don't own Hellsing, all original elements belong to me!**

* * *

"What happens now?" Seras asked, her feet trudging down the hall with a little less vigor than usual. "I mean, with me?"

Walter, her companion on her walk, glanced sideways at her.

"As far as I know, Mr. Porter and his associates will be taking residence here for the time being. That includes you, of course."

"I figured it would." Seras sighed.

At that moment, Integra and Malcolm were busy going over all the legal matters concerning the new Porter-Hellsing alliance. All Seras knew was that it meant Malcolm's employees would be teaming up with Hellsing's to stand a better chance against Purity's Blood.

Purity's Blood was still the enigma it had always been; a shadow group that harbored both artificial and natural vampires from every category. They used FREAK chips to make vampires and ghouls and let them attack at random, until recently. Now, for the first time in history, well-planned vampire assaults were beginning to emerge. The Valentine Brothers' attempt was proof enough to worry any party involved. They knew what they did because an anonymous informant had contacted them six months ago, telling them the sites of future attacks. Who this informant was, they had no idea. But he didn't seem to know much about Purity's Blood's origins or even their leader, or else he wasn't telling.

Now Seras and Walter descended the basement steps, heading down to Seras's room. Luckily, Malcolm was kind enough to bring Seras's personal belongings with him, so now she had clothes to wear. It made her wonder if he had planned her capture all along, just so he'd have a chance to talk to Integra with the Queen on his side.

The basement walls were slightly wet, cobbled with stone bricks and lit with only by electric lamps. The walls seemed to have lost their former charm, as such old mansions are prone to do. When she was human this might have bothered her, but now the dark, earthy atmosphere was comforting beyond belief. She supposed it must have something to do with being dead, for to the dead grave-like places would be home sweet home. The only thing that unnerved her was that, deeper into the bowels of Hellsing manor, Alucard also took refuge in the darkness.

"Um, Walter?" Seras asked as they passed the hallway where her room was. "Where are we going?"

"Alucard requested that you be moved into one of the lower chambers. Probably to keep an eye on you, I would think." Walter answered. Seras rubbed her arms, becoming even more uncomfortable.

They continued their trek far lower than Seras would have liked, so far that the walls seemed to age as they went along and the lights were spaced farther apart. Not that light was a problem, of course. One of the things Seras had grown to like about being a vampire was that there was no way to blind a vampire, whether it be darkness or solid objects.

Finally, Walter opened an old, wooden door and led Seras inside. The room was furnished much better than her old one had been, with several pieces of mahogany furniture and a bookshelf, laden with texts and books she had never heard of. A small TV sat in a corner, but it did not interest her. Instead Seras turned to examine the large coffin taking up a fair portion of her new room. It was darker in colour than others she had seen, not black but rather a very dark burgundy. It wasn't decorated at all, and did not open using a mechanism as her old room's coffin had. She didn't mind, though; she was more than strong enough to open a coffin, anyway. It did feel… odd, though.

"One of Alucard's spare coffins." Walter explained, and Seras jerked her head up to look at him with surprise. "I don't think he's ever used it, as far as I know. It was a present from one of the previous generation's Knights. Seeing as Alucard destroyed yours-"

"Somehow, I can't see him doing this out of generosity. How mad was he when Integra told him to lend it to me?"

Seras's words seemed to startle him, and then he started to laugh.

"You know us well, Miss Victoria." he chuckled, and Seras smiled at his amused face. It looked like things between them had improved, if only a little. "Let's just say things were… uncomfortable, for an hour or two."

"Oh, that reminds me." Seras said, turning to face Walter fully. She scratched her head nervously before asking, "Um, well, when I left…"

"Yes?"

"Did Ma- I mean, Alucard, how did he react? Was he mad, or…?"

Walter eyed her for a moment, adjusting his monocle with one hand. Seras gazed up at him with very curious but slightly sorrowful eyes, and he realized that she was truly sorry for leaving.

"I don't think I'm really the one you should be talking to about this, Miss Victoria." Walter said finally, and Seras's eyes found the floor. "You still haven't told us the reason for your departure, for one. Secondly, Alucard has told us that he-"

"Made me his fledgling again, right?" Seras finished for him, her hand gently rubbing the sore spot on her neck. It didn't look any different, but inside it felt to her like her heart had been ripped out and laid bare for all to see. "Don't worry- it's just temporary. By this time tomorrow I'll be well on my way to being my own vampire again."

"Is that so?" a familiar voice rang out, startling her and Walter. Immediately after the interruption Alucard suddenly appeared, melting through the wall as if it were thin air. As per usual, he wore his red trench coat and fedora hat, yellow-orange sunglasses perched on his nose and hiding his ruby eyes. His arms were crossed and he glared down at his fledgling. "How, pray tell, would you manage that?"

Seras backed up a few steps, finding it difficult to stand her ground. Her neck started to hurt, as if someone were prying open the wound with a dull knife.

"You see, I've been curious about how you managed to elude and escape me this past year. If I didn't know better, I would have thought you'd drunk my blood halfway through your escapade, and freed yourself from me. However, we both know the blood you took from me at the Tower didn't take effect, and you never had another chance."

Seras stared up at him, and Walter shuffled worriedly.

"I found another way." Seras replied, not offering any more.

"Last time I checked, there _wasn't_ another way." Alucard snapped, his fangs glinting. "So I'll ask again; how did you free yourself?"

Seras lowered her eyes, wringing her hands. "Malcolm helped me. He's the CEO of a drug company, so he-"

"Drugs?!" Alucard snarled, and Seras jumped. "You mean you took filthy human substances just to rid yourself of me?!"

Seras hesitated, and then nodded. She was screwed now, anyway, so there wasn't any use providing excuses.

Alucard straightened to his full height, and Seras's senses could tell his body was on the verge of exploding into some god-forsaken monster. She didn't know why the use of drugs brought such a change upon him, unless it was simply because it insulted his integrity to know she had sought help from humans to escape him. That seemed like the most logical reason, but still…

Alucard unfolded his arms and held one hand out to her face. His gloved finger pressed against her forehead, and excruciating pain suddenly cascaded throughout Seras's body. She wanted to cry out, but she couldn't control her body's actions.

"I'm going to make myself perfectly clear to you, Police girl." He hissed, pressing harder. "From now on, you will be unable to go anywhere or do anything without my consent. Your training will be supervised by myself, and no other.

"It became clear to me that leaving your education to humans muddled your tiny mind, and so I'm partly to blame for your insolence. So, as of last night, I'm taking away all your little privileges and freedoms so that I can properly teach you to be a true vampire."

He let go and Seras crumpled, sliding against the wall to the hard floor. Walter made a move as to help her up, but Alucard shot him a heated glare that stopped him in his tracks. Seras tried to stand, but it was as if her strength had seeped out from her body at his touch. And it only served to further fuel her defiance towards him.

"What do you say to that, Police girl?" he inquired, his face serious but domineering.

Seras forced her head upwards to meet his gaze and scowled.

"Go to hell."

Apparently, that was exactly what he wanted to hear, because he broke out into that insane laughter he was famous for.

"Good, good! My little servant has a _backbone_!" he roared vigorously, his face lighting up malicious exhilaration.

Seras tried once more to lift herself, but failed in the attempt. She utterly despised his victorious tone, as if he had somehow won a game. A game with a girl hundreds of years his junior, and whose powers couldn't match up to his. It made her sick to her stomach.

"Shut up!" she screeched feebly, feeling degraded by his mocking laughter.

Walter watched them, his heart going out to Seras. Perhaps it wasn't such a mystery as to why she left, after all.

Alucard quieted down eventually and gave her an almost amiable smirk, regarding her frustration as yet another victory to his name. Humiliation had turned her pale face as red as her eyes, and her mortification at her inability to stand seemed to have humbled her. Yes, the situation was undeniably in his favor.

He stepped backwards, his red trench coat waving, and melted back into the shadows.

"I look forward to seeing you more often, Police girl." His final words echoed, and then he vanished.

Walter and Seras stayed still for a moment, taking in all that happened, before Seras suddenly let out a distressed cry,

"Rrrgh!"

Walter knelt beside her and queried,

"Miss Victoria, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She responded, leaning on him so she could stand up. She slowly felt her strength returning, little bits at a time. "I'm just so… rrgh! I can't _stand_ him!"

Walter helped her up and she sat on the casket, breathing heavily.

"Why are you breathing?"

"Huh?" Seras asked, and then realized what she was doing. "Oh, sorry. Force of habit."

She wanted so badly to take a nap, but she would have to wait until daybreak. If she tried to sleep now, it would screw up her metabolism and she'd suffer headaches for three days. Not something she wanted to try again.

But what she wanted even more was to take a screwdriver to Alucard's head. How could he be so despicable? She sometimes thought his one goal in life was to make her miserable. Not once had she heard him praise her, or offer her guidance when she was upset. He didn't have the right to be her master, no matter how many times he bit her neck.

Walter waited a few seconds, thinking, before saying,

"Actually, I think I'll answer your question."

"What question?" Seras asked, before realizing what he was saying, "Oh, you mean about how Master felt about me running away."

Walter nodded.

"Alucard was understandably upset when you left, Miss Victoria, and I'm sure you'll know why if you think about it."

Seras searched her mind, but found nothing and instead shook her head. Walter sighed.

"Very well. You must remember, Seras, that the only people that Alucard ever associates with are you, me and Sir Integra. That makes us the equivalent of his 'family', if you will.

"Now, Alucard has made many human friends during his servitude, though he would never call them such. And each and every one of them has been killed, either by battle, sickness or old age. Integra and I, too, will pass away one day, and in all probability you will outlive us. Alucard will survive us, of that I'm sure."

"But what does that have to do with me, or what Alucard thinks of me?" Seras asked, not understanding what Walter was getting at. She just wanted to know if Alucard had been exceptionally mad. Why did they need to delve into the topic of death?

Of course, Walter continued, this time with a clearer statement.

"I believe that, to Alucard, you may be his only true companion."

Seras stared wide-eyed at Walter, startled at the statement.

"You have the capacity to live where others will not. That means that a friendship can build between you, and he does not need to worry it will be destroyed by your death. That would make you very valuable to him, Seras. Precious, even."

Seras snorted incredulously. Was Walter off his rocker? Her, precious to Alucard? That was probably the craziest thing she had ever heard.

"So you're saying I'm special to him because I'm a vampire like he is? After what he just did?"

"Heavens, no. Your personality has a great deal to do with it, too; he'd never have offered you immortality if he wasn't sure he could live with you for the rest of his… unlife." Walter said.

"So what _are_ you saying?!" Seras demanded angrily, surprising him. "That he was mad? Relieved? What?"

She buried her head in her hands, irritated and upset. Why couldn't he just get to the point?

Walter stood still and watched her glower in her ill-contentedness.

"I'm saying, Seras," Walter said quietly, and Seras raised her head, "that, although he was certainly angry with you, I've never seen Alucard as lonely and hurt as he was after you left."

Silence.

Seras stared. It was all she _could_ do. She couldn't even hear what Walter said anymore.

"He spent night after night looking for you, and when he couldn't find you-"

_Lonely?_

"-he started interrogating vampires before he killed them, demanding if they had seen you-"

_Hurt?_

"-but no one did, and after a while Integra called off the search. Alucard almost refused, but-"

_About _me_?_

She abruptly decided she didn't want to hear any more. There was no way it could possibly be true, no matter how logical it sounded. Alucard did _not_ have emotions like sadness or pain. He was a monster, and nothing anyone said could convince her otherwise. He killed without remorse, hurt without hurting in return. In the eyes of a monster, she was sure all her actions could have earned her was rage.

So Seras cut him off with a gesture of her hand, then she stood up off the coffin, struggling to keep her face as still and expressionless as she could.

"I'll see you later, Walter."

Before Walter could protest, she quickly ripped open the door and fled down the hallway, without any idea as to why she was running or why her heart had started beating.

She could never allow herself to think of Alucard having feelings. If she did, then she'd have to accept that she and Alucard weren't so different. That it was possible for her to one day become exactly like him, unable to show mercy or regret, existing only to extinguish the lives of others.

She would _never_ allow that to happen.

* * *

Blam.

With one, clean shot the target's head had been reduced to wooden splinters.

Blam.

Another shot blew away the target's torso, leaving only disembodied limbs.

_There is no way in hell I'm a "special companion" to Alucard. Not in any way, shape or form._ She thought furiously, taking out her irritation on the next target. _Servant, maybe. Source of entertainment, definitely. But I'm _not_ some kind of pet!_

Seras plugged nine more wooden targets with her favourite rifle, the semi-automatic Baphomet. It was slightly long, but not unwieldy, and carried enough firepower to fairly rival her old Halconnen, using silver rounds she carried in the pouch of her belt. It was a birthday gift from Malcolm, the first she'd received in two years. She treasured it.

What she loved best about it, though, was that it was easy to carry. She'd had horrible experiences with the Halconnen when trying to walk through doorways. With the Baphomet, she could strap it on her back and that'd be it.

She fired another few rounds, trying to ignore the stares she received from the Hellsing soldiers. She didn't recognize a lot of them, and those she could were few and carrying scars of battle. But that was to be expected; the average lifespan of a Hellsing soldier was not long at all.

Apparently, the fact she was a woman did not go unnoticed. They tittered amongst themselves, and she heard quite well the sexist remarks they offered at her expense.

"Hey, I didn't know they let chicks in Hellsing. She a secretary, or something?"

"Maybe we should take her for a couple beers. She looks like an easy girl-"

One of them, a soldier who was once in her platoon, hissed to the others,

"Are you guys nuts? That there's Seras Victoria, the runaway vampire I was tellin' you about!"

THAT, thankfully, brought most of the jokes to an end.

_Hmm. Looks like I've got a reputation that doesn't involve bad shooting. _

"Hello, gentlemen." She said, smiling cheerfully. She rested the Baphomet on her shoulder and turned to face them. "I don't think I've met all of you yet, have I?"

The men shifted about hesitantly.

"That's all right. I'm Seras Victoria. I'm here with Mr. Porter, of CBANW. And, yes, I'm a vampire."

One man broke from the group and stepped in front. He was a bit shorter than the rest, and looked younger, with blue eyes and reddish-brown hair. He couldn't have been more than twenty.

"I'm Alex. Alex Flannel." He said, holding out his hand. Seras shook it, smiling at him.

"Nice to meet you, Alex." Seras said, letting go. At least _one_ of them seemed civilized. "How long have you been here?"

Alex laughed nervously, flashing her a giddy smile.

"I've been here about two weeks. Truth be told, you're the first to speak to me."

"Is that so?" Seras eyed the others, who began whistling innocently. "Well, don't be too put out; most of them are so spineless that they're only good for cannon fodder. Not-so-friendly fire, if you know what mean."

The soldiers decided to take that moment to go and take a run around the mansion, scurrying out the practice grounds' doors and disappearing. She was certainly glad to see them go, but if they were intimidated by _her_ they wouldn't last two seconds on the battleground. And as much as she disliked them, she didn't want to see them end up vampire chow.

_I'd feel sorry for the vampire chomping down on _their_ necks._ She thought wryly, before turning her attention back to Alex. He'd started some obscure conversation while she was thinking, and now she had no idea what he was talking about.

"-so I told him I'd work really hard-"

"Pardon?" Seras interrupted, gazing at him sheepishly. "Sorry, I missed the first bit of what you were talking about."

Alex blinked, before answering,

"I was saying how my uncle used to work here. Did you know him? His name was Lawrence Ferguson." He replied.

Seras gaped at him. This young man was Commander Ferguson's nephew? She hadn't even known Ferguson had any relatives at all. It made her feel sick inside, knowing Ferguson had been the first she'd fed from. He was dead at the time, but it still felt like she had done something… inhuman.

And now, here stood his nephew.

"Uh, yeah, I knew him." Seras said. "He was my commander. He died a very brave man. I'm sure he'd be proud of you for joining up with Hellsing."

"Thanks." He said sheepishly. Then he checked his wristwatch and gasped.

"Gah! Sorry, I've gotta go. Commander Burnfield's gonna have my hide for a handbag!" he apologized, grabbing his pack and hurrying towards the door. Before he left, he turned and said,

"Uh, thanks, Miss Victoria. See you around?"

Seras smiled and waved him goodbye as he burst through the doors.

Well, things weren't so bad. She'd made a friend, even if he was a little air-headed. Maybe being back wouldn't be as horrible as she'd thought it'd be. Now, if only she could find a way to keep Alucard out of her hair…

The doors of the room flung open again, and for a moment Seras thought it was Alex again, but instead she saw a more familiar figure striding towards her.

"Malcolm?" Seras asked.

"Yep, it's me. How've you been, kiddo?" he beamed down at her, taking his hand and ruffling her hair. "I'm really sorry I got you mixed up in all this stupid political stuff, but you know how it is. It's one thing or another, these days."

"That's okay." She grinned up at him. But then she asked, "How long do we have to stay here? I want to go home."

"I don't know." He replied, running his fingers through his slicked-back hair. "We need to stop Purity's Blood, but they're unfortunately residing in England, which is under Hellsing's jurisdiction. Sending you here was the only way I could think of to get in contact with them while getting on the Queen's good side."

Seras stepped away from Malcolm angrily.

"I knew it. You wanted me to get captured on purpose!"

"I honestly didn't think they'd capture you. I underestimated Alucard's abilities, and you have every right to be angry with me." He said, sighing dejectedly.

"Yeah, I definitely do." Seras grumbled, pointing to her neck. "He _bit_ me! He thinks I'm his fledgling again!"

"Yes, I know." He said. He looked uncomfortable about something.

Seras studied him suspiciously.

"What is it, Master?"

"Well…" Malcolm began, unsure of how to phrase his words, "…one of Integra's conditions for joining with us was that I wasn't to help you break Alucard's control on you. Alucard is in charge of you, for now at least."

She stared at him incredulously.

This couldn't be happening.

"You're… you're _abandoning_ me?!" she cried, furious blood-red tears appearing in her eyes. How could he? He didn't know what it was like, being chained to a monster!

"No!" he exclaimed in protest, grabbing her shoulders. "I'd _never_ do that, Seras! Once this whole thing blows over, I'll take you home and get you fixed up. But I need you to be strong, okay?"

She nodded, angrily blinking back her watery eyes. What was she, a child?

"No matter what happens, I'll protect you, I promise." Malcolm soothed her with his words, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "Until then, just try to get along with Alucard, okay? I'll make sure Integra keeps him from hurting you, and you do what he says. Within reason, of course."

Malcolm sighed again, and Seras noticed wrinkles in his face she'd never seen before.

_He really is worrying about me._ She thought, and felt a bit better. After all, this wasn't _his_ fault. And everyone needed to make sacrifices to make this arrangement work. Dealing with Alucard would be hers.

"To be honest, I'm not too worried about your welfare." Malcolm said. "I think he'll take care of you just fine, as long as you do your best to make compromises. It's not like he hates you, Seras." He assured her.

"Y'know, it's fairly obvious he cares about you. In his own weird little way."

"Funny," Seras grumbled, "Someone told me the same thing today."

Malcolm looked as if he were about to ask who when his bodyguard appeared, with a man beside him. He was young, about twenty-five, with messy blond hair and brown eyes. The man wore pretty casual clothes, and had a pair of thick glasses adorning his otherwise good-looking face. He wore a large, black bag around his shoulder.

"Joshua!" Seras cried, happily, running to hug him.

"Whoa, whoa! Watch it! Vampire hugs are lethal, y'know!" he protested as she threw her arms around his neck. "Just don't bite me, okay, babe?"

"I missed you!" Seras said, letting go and smiling at him. "How was Australia?"

"Crikey, I got bit by one o' dem nasty gaters." He joked, badly faking an Australian accent. Seras giggled.

"By the way, how's your coffin-bike?"

Seras's happy face immediately fell into a guilty frown. She shuffled her feet nervously.

"Um, well… Alucard, he kind of…"

She looked up at him with guilty eyes.

"He blew it up."

* * *

"Hey, Joshua?" Seras asked. "How's it coming?"

"I'm not talking to you." He replied, his face hidden by the remains of the bike.

Seras would never have been here, in Joshua's new workshop, if it hadn't been for Malcolm's going off to the mansion again. Something about more paperwork.

Integra had lent Joshua one of the spare garages, and Hellsing had brought the battered frame of Seras's bike to be repaired. Joshua had gone mental, mourning for his masterpiece.

Seras's motorcycle wasn't _just_ a motorcycle. It was a mobile home, so to speak. The reason it was called a coffin-bike was because, when not in active mode, it transformed into a coffin. That's right; with the flip of a switch, the frame disassembled itself and made a cozy little haven for a vampire away from home. It didn't even need an engine, because it fed on Seras's innate vampiric powers. It was certainly useful, but Seras had heard more than her fair share of Transformers jokes about the subject.

"I can't even get it to turn back into a coffin anymore. It'll take at least a week to fix up." Joshua groaned. "The tires are shot, half the frame is melted off. What were you guys doing, fighting in a volcano?!"

Seras sighed, threw up her hands and gave up. There was no talking to Joshua when he got like this.

Joshua was her Linkmaster. All individual units had one; someone who patched communications and told them coordinates while they were hunting. He also gave her messages while she was out, so she wouldn't need a cell phone. They were the perfect team, brains and brawn. He also served as her personal mechanic, making gadgets and cleaning up her weapons. Alternatively, Seras served a tester for whatever he came up with and provided him with environmental data on her trips out.

He was also her good friend. They had been through a lot together, considering their line of work. She'd once considered him boyfriend material, but now he was more like a kid brother, despite the fact he was older and definitely smarter than she was.

"So, what's this I hear about that Alucard guy? You guys talked yet?"

"You could say that." Seras replied wryly.

"Well, we'll be here a while yet, so I hope you guys get everything worked out. I mean, do you really want someone like him to have a grudge against you?"

That was a good point. Even if she could elude his wrath for a while, eventually he'll be free of the Hellsings. They couldn't keep appointing heirs forever, and one day he'll be a free vampire. That was _not_ something she looked forward to.

"Well, I told Malcolm I'd try to make some compromises with him." Seras said, sitting in a chair at a workbench. "I mean, it's not like he tries to kill me or anything, but his morals are a little warped, you know what I mean?"

"Nope."

"Well, just today he basically told me I'm not allowed to do anything without his permission."

"What'd you say?" Joshua asked, sticking his head out from behind the motorcycle.

"I told him to go to hell. Not the best move, I'll admit, but he seemed pretty damn happy I said it."

Joshua nodded, turning his head back to his work.

"I'm scared of him, though."

Joshua jerked his head back up to survey her. Her back was hunched, and she looked lost in contemplation.

"Whenever he's around, I feel nervous and self-conscious. No matter what I did or said, I could never please him. I always screwed up in one way or another, and I'd feel like I had disappointed him. I just wanted him to be proud of me.

"But I couldn't do it. And I didn't want to live my life feeling like a failure, which was one of the major reasons I left. But no matter what I did, even after I went through with the de-bonding procedure, I still wanted to please him."

Seras looked at him and asked pleadingly,

"Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

Joshua thought for a moment, then answered,

"No, I don't think so. You're an upright, spunky girl, and if that bonehead's got one brain cell he'd be proud of you for who you are, rather than how many zombies you kill or how well you fire a gun. Heck, if he hasn't noticed it already he probably isn't worth it."

Seras smiled gratefully at him, feeling a little better. She didn't think she was all that spunky, but the thought was nice.

"Thanks, Joshua."

"And if there _is_ anything wrong with you," Joshua added, "Just ask Dr. Crane or Miranda to help you out. Ask them for some acid, you'll do just fine."

Seras pulled a disgusted face. She had sworn on her father's grave she'd never take drugs, wanting to be a cop and all. No one she knew did them, either, of that she was glad.

She saw the sun rising in the distance, and stood up to leave. But suddenly Walter appeared in the garage doorway, panting and looking a little distressed.

"What is it, Walter?" Seras asked, concern echoing in her voice. Why did he look so worried?

"Come quickly! Someone-" he wheezed, "S-someone broke into the mansion and attacked Mr. Porter!"

* * *

_Somewhere in England, in a place of shadows and dirt and death, two entities were speaking. Their bodies were hidden; the only light a tiny light bulb hovering over a table. They sat at the table, on it resting an elaborate chess board, one of the figures fingering the pieces lovingly with pale hands._

"_I trust all is going well?" a voice whispered in the dark. The other answered,_

_"But of course. The pieces are falling into place just as you said they would, Supreme One."_

_"Did you doubt me? I know each and every move they'll make, merely from experience. So simple a strategy as this takes no more than an ounce of intelligence to weave. Are my pawns in place?"_

_"Ready for your orders, as always."_

_"Good. My rooks?"_

_"Heavily armed and waiting, Supreme One."_

_"I need not ask for my bishops, they are well within my control. But what of my precious knight?"_

_The second voice paused, hesitating. The other tapped their hand impatiently on the marble chess board._

_"Ready, Supreme One."_

_"Good." The first voice crooned in pleasure. "Worry not, my pet, you'll have your desire soon enough." _

_The first figure's hand held one of the opposite side's knights in the palm of their hand, toying with it affectionately._

_"The first check draws near, dear one, and with it shall fall their precious Queen's Knight. And after that-"_

_The bodiless hand shattered the piece into fragments, the pieces raining down on the board._

_"-all of England, in one glorious checkmate!" _

* * *

**And so the nefarious plot begins to emerge. Reviews liked, flames not so much. Critique gets a gold star!**


	4. Chapter 4: Fool

**Fourth Chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

Seras ran as fast as she could. With every ounce of strength her dead body had to offer she flung herself against the laws of physics, propelling herself forward. She burst through the doors of the mansion and nearly pummelled into a researcher moving a trolley of chemicals.

"Sorry!" she cried behind her as she continued on, racing up the endless flights of steps to where she knew the infirmary was. She had never been as scared and upset as she was then.

_Oh, please, let him be all right!_ She prayed, finding the glass doors and wrenching them open.

Inside, Integra, Alucard and the bodyguard were assembled around a hospital bed. On the bed lay Malcolm, his chest stripped bare of clothes and instead wrapped in bloodstained bandages.

"Oh, Malcolm!" Seras gasped at the sight of the wound. Through the thin bandages she could see a gaping wound from his left shoulder to the right side of his waist, carefully stitched together by black threads.

"It's all right." Malcolm assured her, though his voice was weaker than usual. "Just a flesh wound, nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?! You look like a gutted fish!" she cried, rushing to his bedside and grabbing his hand. "Who did this to you?! I swear I'll skin them alive!"

"Alucard managed to capture the assailant before he escaped. We're holding him for questioning." Integra answered, and Seras turned to look at Alucard, who was leaning against a wall with his arms folded. He looked very uninterested with the whole thing.

"He tried to jump me with a knife as I was going to get breakfast." Malcolm explained, his face taking on an uncharacteristic scowl. "An uglier vampire, I've never met. Not particularly bright, either. Luckily, Alucard saved my skin and grabbed the little weasel when he left me for dead. I owe you one, Alucard."

Alucard found Seras looking at him with a mixed expression of gratitude and suspicion, a look he returned only with a grim stare. He wasn't in the habit of rescuing humans, particularly ones he hated, but Integra had told him to protect Malcolm and so he would. Even though he really wanted to finish the job himself. But he could settle for the worm being indebted to him, for now at least.

Walter and Joshua came in, both breathing heavily. They had tried to keep up with Seras's inhuman speed, but had failed miserably.

"Is he-" Joshua began.

"He's fine." Integra replied, irritably.

"Dr. Crane has complete control of the situation." Malcolm told him, gesturing to a man standing off to the side, pulling out medical supplies.

He had medium-length black hair, tied in a loose ponytail at his neck, with tiny spectacles perched on his nose. He was also clean-shaven, and it added to his youthful look, along with the kind face of an innocent individual. He had told Seras his age, once, and it was thirty, but he said it with such a peculiar face that it left her pondering his past to this day. He always seemed to remind Seras of a librarian rather than a doctor, or perhaps a kindly professor.

He wrenched his head up from the pile and turned around to face them.

"Hello, everyone." Dr. Crane greeted them cheerfully, as if seeing them for the first time. "You don't need to worry, Mr. Porter will be fine in a few days. The cut wasn't deep, just bloody. But, for his sake, I think you should let him rest."

A woman appeared at the door to usher them out. This woman was the complete opposite of Dr. Crane; she had dark red hair and vibrantly green eyes, and where Dr. Crane's face was gentle hers seemed like cold steel.

She was also, as Seras had learned long ago, unable to speak.

"I'll let you know when you can visit." Dr. Crane assured them, his kind face giving Seras a little comfort. "Miranda, would you come over here, please? I'd like you to clean these bandages for me while I fetch some more antiseptic."

They reluctantly left the room, leaving Malcolm to Dr. Crane's care.

Seras sighed, relieved that Malcolm was away from death's doorstep. She didn't know what she'd have done if the assassin had succeeded in his dreadful mission. She could not understand how anyone could wish harm to such a gentle, fatherly man, but she was determined to find out.

"Where is he?" she demanded of Integra as the door shut. She was so filled with livid rage that she cared not to whom she spoke, or how her words left her lips. All she wanted was to exact vengeance on the trash that dared hurt her kindly mentor. "If I don't see him right now, I'll-"

"Do nothing." Integra snapped, cutting off Seras's threat with an icy glance. "We're interrogating him right now, and in order to do that we need him conscious."

"May we at least see the interrogation?" Joshua asked tentatively, hesitant to enrage two already aggravated women. "I mean, since Malcolm can't supervise, and we're his only available employees…"

Integra considered the request, then replied,

"All right. Come with me."

* * *

The first thing Seras noticed about the vampire when she entered the dimly lit interrogation room was how ugly he was. He was short, for one thing, as if stunted somehow. His limbs were long and disgustingly thin, not a shred of muscle present. His skin was not the noble paleness of a proper vampire, but a ghastly shade of grey that reminded Seras of dirty laundry, and was only accentuated by the arcane symbols tattooed in vivid lines of purple. He was bald, his head malformed to the shape of an egg. In fact, the only things that distinguished him as a vampire were his white, sharp teeth and red eyes.

Of course, vampires did not automatically have red eyes. Seras had seen vampires with orange, green, yellow and sometimes even purple eye colours. It had a lot to do with who one's sire is, and what kind of DNA one has. Red just happened to be one of the colours associated with vampires of higher lineage.

The vampire wore a black, sleeveless coat, which immediately signalled the vampire had to be from somewhere nearby. Walking out in daylight wearing clothes like that would mean certain doom, even for Seras. He must not have expected to be here long.

Truth be told, he looked sort of like a larval form of Incognito.

"Damn you, infidels!" he screeched at them without reservation. "You filthy human dogs!"

"I'll take that as a compliment, coming from trash like you." Integra replied, smirking down at him. The only ones to come here were Joshua, Integra and Seras. Alucard was thoroughly bored and wanted to sleep, and Walter was busy with his daytime duties. The vampire was kept in the chair with silver chains, and he was not happy about it.

"What is your name?" Integra demanded.

"I'll tell you nothing, Hellsing cur!"

Seras studied the vampire for a moment, and then kneeled to stare him face to face.

"Okay," Seras began, keeping her voice smooth and free of frustration. "I can understand your dislike of humans. I know someone who thinks like that too."

The vampire didn't belt out a string of insults this time, but he still didn't look too convinced.

"But I'm a vampire, too, so would you talk to me instead?" Seras asked, giving him her most innocent look. Offering the fact she was a vampire was meant to serve as common ground, invaluable when confronting fanatics.

The vampire eyed her suspiciously, his mind seeming to teem with thoughts. Then, to Seras's slight disgust, he sniffed her, as if checking for some undetectable odour that would signal her trustworthiness, or lack thereof.

"You smell familiar." He noted, tilting his head to study her quizzically. "Who is your sire?"

Seras hesitated. Was it wise to tell this vampire that her sire was the one who captured him, or that he was an infamous vampire slayer? Probably not.

"No one you know personally, I don't think." No lie there. "Would you tell me your name?"

"Ormith." He replied, then as an afterthought, "You infidel."

"My name is Seras Victoria. Pleased to meet you." She said easily, becoming less angry with the vampire. It was obvious he was not very smart, and was merely following orders from someone else. She could vent her rage on his superior, instead.

At the mention of her name Ormith tensed, and leaned off the back of his chair to get closer.

"Seras? Blood-kin of the Betrayer, Alucard?" he demanded, his voice an imitation of a snake's angry hissing.

"Hey, egghead!" Joshua interrupted, hitting Ormith on the head lightly with his fist. "We're askin' the questions here, not you, ugly."

"Joshua!" Seras hissed, slapping his hand instinctively. For some odd reason, she had no desire to hurt Ormith. She turned back to their captive and replied, "Yes, Alucard is my sire."

Ormith seemed to freeze in place. His red eyes bulged, and he suddenly flung himself forward onto the floor, bringing the chair with him. Seras was so surprised she jumped backwards.

"Forgive me!" Ormith exclaimed, on his knees and apparently trying to bow at her feet. "I have called you blasphemies and shamed myself before all Nosferatu! You, darkest of shadows, beloved of all damned creatures! To die at your hand would be to great an honour for my filthy corpse to bear!"

Seras glanced nervously at everyone else, who were just as dumbfounded as she was. Integra chewed her cigar irritably, unsure of how react to such an unusual act of prostration.

"Um," Seras began, kneeling and patting his head hesitantly, "There, there. I forgive you, so please get up. I would like you to answer a couple questions, and it's terribly awkward talking to someone with their face in the dirt."

Ormith immediately flung himself backwards with his torso, the momentum bringing the chair upright once more.

"I would do just that, milady, but I am under oath to reveal nothing. Not even to your Unholiness." Ormith said, keeping his eyes lowered to the floor in reverence, which only disconcerted Seras more.

"However, I was told that should I meet your Unholiness, I should deliver this message." Ormith added, leaning forward and ignoring Joshua and Integra. He tilted his neck so he was as close as he could get, gesturing for her to come closer. Seras bent so he could whisper into her ear.

"The Black Knight is coming," he hissed, "for _you_, my No-Life Queen."

Her eyes widened at his words. For a moment Seras thought the words were not Ormith's at all, and instead she heard a voice so sharp and inhuman and evil but also beautiful, like the shattering of glass. It mesmerized her, and a part of her she didn't know existed burst forth to greet the sound, cradling it in her heart and imprinting it in her memory. She fell backwards onto the ground, her eyes half-closed, in a state of inner turmoil.

"And he shall cleanse the world of the traitorous Hellsing dog, his human master, and every mortal who sides with him!" Ormith crowed, this time loud enough for everyone else to hear. "With him shall come the flames of hell, and he shall scour the land of England with his blade! The era of death is upon us, and all shall succumb to it, for the Bloody Monarchs and their faithful make it so! Purity's Blood prevails!"

"Get this filthy vampire out of my sight!" Integra screamed at the guards waiting outside. "I want him gone this INSTANT!"

Joshua knelt and tried to wake Seras as the guards dragged Ormith away, who kept screaming profanities until they stuffed a large rubber block in his mouth, partly to keep him from biting and partly to shut him up. Seras just sat, totally numb.

"Are you all right, Police girl?" Integra questioned, the words spat through gritted teeth. The vampire's words were the equivalent of a demonic prophesy, and were deeply unsettling, even to her.

Seras didn't answer. She stared at the floor, her red eyes glowing with the same intensity as during battle, where her vampire instincts took over.

"Seras!" Joshua persisted, shaking her shoulder. The movement jolted Seras awake, and she glanced at them in confusion.

"What happened?" she asked, her hand pressed against her forehead. It ached horribly.

"You just kinda… well, fell. And you went a little sleepy-eyed on us." Joshua explained, swinging her arm over his shoulder to lift her up. "How long has it been since you had blood, or slept, for that matter?"

"I haven't had blood in a couple days, since before I came. And sleep wasn't really an option, what with Malcolm and Ormith…"

"You're going to drink two packs of blood and then you're going to sleep. We don't want cranky, hungry vampires running around, do we? Atta girl…" Joshua said, letting her lean on him as they made for the door.

"Police girl."

Seras looked at Integra, who came up to her and searched her face.

"Are you wearing lipstick, Police girl?" she asked, her face serious.

"Huh?" The question took her by surprise, even in her slightly muddled state. How could that be relevant to what had happened? Seras touched her lips. Nothing there.

"Hey, they _are_ kind of red, aren't they?" Joshua said, then quickly added, "Not that I look at them a lot, or anything."

Seras couldn't see her lips, but at this point she didn't particularly care about lip colour. It was late into the morning, and she wanted to _sleep_.

She and Joshua left, leaving Integra standing in the room, smoking her cigar.

_Alucard._ Integra thought, sending out her mind's silent command.

_**Yes, master?**_ The reply was almost immediate, despite the fact Integra knew he had been sleeping and was probably very grumpy about being woken up.

_I suggest you take care of your fledgling. If I suspect that she might become a threat, you know what I will be forced to do. _

Alucard laughed inside her mind, the sound never failing to make her uneasy.

_**You need not order me to do what I was already intending to do, master. This will provide her with a much-needed reminder as to who is in charge around here. The proverbial two birds with one stone.**_

_Is that your wounded pride talking? _Integra inquired, smirking._ I'm starting to wonder just how deep she's buried under your skin._

This time, Alucard offered no snide remark. It was a rare occurrence, and Integra enjoyed it.

_Just remember the agreement, Alucard._ She thought, not without a hint of triumph.

_**You'd do well to remember your side of it, Master Integra.**_ He snapped, with surprisingly more venom than usual.

With that, Alucard's voice was gone, leaving Integra once again alone and not without a triumphant smile. It was nice to shut him up, for once.

* * *

Seras sighed. There was a certain irony to her situation; the one time she really needed to get in a coffin, it was extremely hard to do. Why couldn't vampires have chosen a bed _without_ a heavy lid?

Such was her grievance as she valiantly tried to pry off the coffin's lid, only to have it firmly shut against her wishes. It seemed as if the entire world had set out on a quest that involved her pain and unhappiness. But of course she immediately pushed such thoughts away, disgusted with herself.

_I'm a respectable British-Canadian vampire, dammit! I won't let myself sit around and mope!_

With renewed vigour she managed to get the lid off, and found the welcoming white silk a worthy reward for her efforts. It wasn't as dusty as she'd thought it'd be, being one of Alucard's spares, but she dearly missed the reassuring metal one she'd had. It made her feel more like being in a car than a death-box, and the lid opened on voice-command. She hoped Joshua would fix it soon.

She was about to climb in when her eyes caught on the two blood bags encased in an ice bucket on the table to her right. She had forgotten all about it, so great was her desire for sleep. But now her eyes flared hungrily and the coffin was forgotten.

She grabbed one of the bags drank thirstily, sating her stomach and turning to the box near the coffin, the bag still in her mouth. The box was filled with the things Malcolm had brought; her clothes, books, and everything else she owned. She had emptied out her apartment before she left Hellsing, not wishing to see Hellsing ransack her belongings at her disappearance.

She walked over, blood bag in hand, and began to sift through it, pulling out a set of photographs. Most featured Seras and her father, and she placed these lovingly on her dresser. She also put her mother and father's wedding photo beside them and one of her D-11 squad when she was a policewoman. She looked through them tenderly, thinking fondly of her family and friends.

"Reminiscing, Police girl?"

She didn't even bother to turn around this time. She knew perfectly well who it was, and didn't feel all that up to dealing with his antics.

"I thought you were sleeping." She said, keeping her eyes glued to the wall above the dresser.

"I was." Alucard replied, his voice deep and even. "Why? Do you enjoy my absences so much?"

She turned around and stared him square in the face. The first thing she noticed was that his glasses and hat were missing, leaving his pale face and red eyes quite exposed, but for his black hair. Her heart fluttered slightly at his sudden open appearance, a reaction she quickly killed by calling up the memory of their last conversation.

"Yes, actually." She sniffed, brushing past him to pick up her cardboard box. "Now, I'm just about ready for bed. And I'd appreciate another one of your absences, if you don't mind."

He smirked, and she held in a scowl. It was clear he had no intention of leaving, which meant he wanted something from her. Was he so bored he had to get up in the middle of the day, just to torment her?

"You ask too much of me, Police girl. My curiosity has been quite demanding as of late, and I find myself unable to please both it and you." He said, gracefully falling into one of the mahogany chairs and crossing his legs. Keeping his eyes on her, he leisurely plucked the second bag of blood from the bucket and held it aloft, taunting her with it.

"Give that back." She growled, her voice menacing. The blood didn't really entice her that much, but his condescending attitude was quickly irritating her. Her coffin was beckoning, and he was impeding her much-needed sleep.

"Not so fast." He rested his head on the knuckles of his other hand, sneering smugly at her frowning face. "Now, if you agree to be the good little fledgling I know you can be, and do as I say, I _might_ find it within me to relinquish this very tasty-looking packet of blood."

Seras remembered what Malcolm told her about getting along with Alucard. She knew her pride and personal feelings were becoming an obstacle to Malcolm's mission and her own happiness, so she made a solemn decision to just let Alucard have his way. She already knew what kind of reaction he wanted, and giving him this victory might make him leave her alone.

"All right." She sighed, reluctantly giving up. It hurt, but this was the only way to settle things. "What do you want from me… master?"

Alucard's eyes widened in surprise. The last thing he had expected was a full-blown surrender. To be perfectly honest, he was rather looking forward to her stubborn resistance, but now he became suspicious.

"Why the sudden change of heart, Police girl?"

"I figure I owe you." She replied, poking through the box for something. "I mean, you saved Malcolm from that vampire, and anyway, arguing with you just ends up with me getting humiliated. So I thought: what the heck, just give him what he wants and move on."

He eyed her sceptically. Her logic was certainly understandable, but he found it highly unlikely that she actually held any respect for him. That slime she called master had probably put her up to this, which angered him, but he controlled himself. Whatever the reason, she was agreeing to do as he wished, and it was a considerable victory.

Seras pulled out a baby-blue fleece blanket and put it in the coffin, turning to look at Alucard. He was still watching her, and his expressionless face made her uneasy.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Why did you leave?" he asked, resting his head on his fist and keeping his straight face. Seras's eyes widened.

His question was not unexpected. She had done a fair job of avoiding it up until now, but she supposed there was no use running from it. The best choice would be to get it over with, and put it behind them.

As logical as that sounded, in her mind she remembered the face of a little pale-faced girl screaming for her parents, and she knew he would never understand.

"I didn't like how Hellsing does things. I hate how they kill before asking questions, and show no mercy to anyone, human or not. In my mind, I see Hellsing as the true scum of the earth." She replied, keeping her eyes on his.

"Integra probably told you I let a vampire escape on my last mission at Hellsing. I let her go because she was a child."

Alucard remained silent, so she continued,

"We were sent in to purify a group of vampires that had been ratted out by a vampire we found earlier. We assumed they were feeding off civilians, but it wasn't till later that we discovered one worked at a blood bank and was sneaking out blood packs.

"When we went in we killed whoever we saw, which ended up being a husband and wife. We had expected something like the pair of vampires you and I killed on my first night out, but they weren't anything like that. They didn't even have a gun."

Seras lowered her eyes, remembering the screams. They had been innocent people, vampire or not, and totally defenceless. She also remembered the soldiers' whooping laughter and cheers, as if somehow they had triumphed over them…

"I went upstairs by myself. It was there that I saw her."

Pale skin. Bloody tears raining down her face. She had been huddled in a corner, clutching a piece of paper in her trembling hand. She recalled thinking; _this_ is what Hellsing calls a monster? How can anything so tiny and frail be a monster?

Seras saw monsters as things that killed innocents without remorse, enjoyed others' pain and lived each day with the desire to harm. But, according to Hellsing, monsters were intelligent, thinking creatures that weren't human. To be fair to them, many inhuman creatures _were_ evil, but they included those who were weak and did no harm. There just wasn't any discretion between evil vampires and good ones; just ones who worked for Hellsing and those who didn't.

"She was so young and weak. I couldn't find it in myself to shoot her."

"A beginners mistake." Alucard interrupted, and she glanced at him sharply. "Just because she looked young doesn't necessarily make her a child. You should know that, Police girl."

Well, he hadn't seen her crying and calling out for her parents. Otherwise, he'd know there was no way this child was mature.

"I told her I wouldn't hurt her, and then I kicked open a window for her to escape through. It led to an alleyway that Hellsing wasn't patrolling, because they knew _I _was on the job.

"Before she jumped out, she told me she and her parents were planning to escape to a Canadian vampire reserve owned by Malcolm Porter. Then she told me the address she was to meet these people who would get them out of England, and then she left."

She sighed and promptly settled into the chair across from Alucard. She wasn't sure whether or not he was actually paying attention; he didn't move at all, except for his eyes, which bored into hers every time she dared to look up. And she didn't have enough courage to see whether his eyes were interested or bored, because she felt very vulnerable when looking into them, as if her soul was an open book to him. This seemed very unfair, that she should be so cut off from his thoughts when hers were at his disposal.

"Well?" he asked, his voice impatient and bringing Seras back from her thoughts. He had decided not to sift through her mind beforehand, wanting to hear her submit her memories to him of her own accord, but it was very tempting to simply rip the information from her brain and get the whole thing over with. After all, it was his sleep this ordeal interrupted as well, and every moment she stalled he lost much-desired rest.

"I guess I was mad at what we did to that poor girl, and I decided that I didn't want to exist for the purpose of killing whoever Hellsing wanted me to. So when we got back home, I snuck into the storeroom and stole a few blood bags when no one was looking, and waited until morning to run away."

"I assume you waited until morning so I wouldn't catch you in the act."

"Well, yes."

Alucard wondered if he could trust her words, and ultimately decided there was no chance she'd lie to him. After all, their minds were connected and she knew if she dared lie, all he'd have to do was check her thoughts and she'd be caught. Besides, her story seemed quite probable; she had always been very sentimental and emotional about such things, and although he thought it hindering he also found it… refreshing, in a way. Being surrounded by merciless killers and hunters for so long, himself included, made finding an individual who actually regretted killing others an unfamiliar concept.

It made little sense to him, that someone should bear burdens down upon themselves for ensuring their own survival. Does the snake shed tears for its latest meal? Do humans grieve for the animals they frequently slaughter to feed themselves? Of course not. The strong consume the weak, be it for food or battle. Alucard did not kill out of hate, but to keep himself alive. If he harboured any reservations about battle at all, they would be merely that he enjoyed the clash of power and flesh, and the immediate triumph over another. But can't that be said of any other?

Apparently not of Seras. She held herself back, clinging to the ghosts of the dead and destroyed. He had no doubt that, if she were release these feeble fantasies of a false humanity, she would become a worthy Nosferatu.

And he would do anything and everything to make sure that happened.

"I must be a terrible nuisance to you." She said softly, and it jarred him from his inner reverie to regard her with scornful interest.

"I mean," she continued, waving about a hand for emphasis, "I always screw up. I've only just recently started drinking blood, and I hate fighting. I've seen ladybugs meaner than I am!"

She sighed dramatically and slumped into the chair, letting her eyes wander about, focusing on anything but him. It was then that she saw it.

Alucard noticed as Seras's eyes widened in fear, staring at something behind him. His first thought was that the scum vampire had managed to escape, but his senses told him otherwise. As far as he could tell, there was nothing behind him.

"What is it, Police girl?"

She forced out an incoherent squeak and pointed behind him, at the wall.

"It's a-a-"

"Spit it out!" he snarled, ready to swivel about at any moment.

"SPIDER!" she shrieked, her face a contortion of fear.

Seras was pointing to a spider perched on the wall, a fair metre away and virtually harmless. It was black, and considerably sized as far as spiders go, but nonetheless, a spider. Alucard didn't even bother to turn around, he was too busy rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"Yes, it's a spider." He said nonchalantly, although he felt as if he'd lost all respect for his fledgling.

"B-but it's a _spider_!" she protested, her words stuttered. "I _hate_ spiders!"

If looks could kill, his would have taken her on a one-way tour through the bowels of hell. She shrank from his icy glare, but was not totally discouraged.

"Just let me get a bit of tissue pa-"

Before she could finish, Alucard had whipped out his Jackal and fired a single bullet over his shoulder, effectively splattering the poor eight-legged arachnid all over the wall. The gunshot echoed down the hallway, and Seras was sure everyone in the Hellsing mansion heard it.

She stared at him, mouth agape, while he slipped the gun back into his coat with a satisfied grunt.

"Shall we move on?" he asked, once again raising the bag of blood. "I believe we still have a conversation going, if I recall."

Her eyes flickered from him to the spider, then back to him.

"Y-you shot it."

"Yes, I believe that's been well-established. Any more obvious statements?"

"No, I don't think so." She replied, her face flushed with shame. She'd made an idiot of herself yet again. Why did she always freak out when _he_ was around?

"Good." He said smoothly, and tossed the bag of blood to her. She caught it, a little surprised he had handed it over so easily.

"Drink it. Now. I want you to be in perfect condition tonight." He said, his voice taking on the air of authority she had once adored, but now loathed. "That vampire you were talking to was… _persuaded_ into telling us of a hang-out for trash vampires, and you're coming with me to kill them."

"Wait, I'll have to ask Malcolm-" she interrupted, but at her words he immediately stood and strode to her chair, surprising her. She clutched the blood-bag to her chest, feeling dread and fear wash over her.

He leaned down and murmured darkly, "Tell me, Police girl, just who is your master?"

She shifted uncomfortably and replied, "You are."

"And, as your master, it is _my_ approval that you should seek, not his." His eyes flickered to the blood-bag she held so dearly. "I thought I told you to drink that."

She tightened her grip on it and stared back up at him, furious defiance once again rising inside her. What, she had to drink it the moment he said so?!

"Yes, actually." He growled, and she realized he had read her thoughts. Even worse, her mind's anger summoned up countless insults against her will, and she knew without hesitation he could hear them.

"I don't need you to tell me when to feed, _Master_ Alucard." She said, an edge of anger on her tongue. "In case you hadn't noticed, I did well enough on my own this past year. Better, even."

His eyes narrowed, and she knew she had done it now. A part of her screamed,

_Why, oh why can't I keep my damn mouth shut?!_

One of his arms suddenly slammed into the back of the chair, just beside her head, not even giving her enough time to blink. His body now loomed over hers, trapping her in the confines of the chair. His other hand wrenched the bag from her hands and tore into the sealed opening with a white fang.

"Master, what are you doing?!" she cried, feeling cornered. He didn't smile at her fear, for only an angry glare greeted her, that and another emotion she couldn't recognize.

"I've grown tired of your insolence." He answered with a snarl, pressing the opening of the bag against her lips. "You will do as I say. Now drink."

"I'm not thirsty." She said, turning her head away from the bag. He reacted with a growl of frustration, taking hand from the chair and grabbing her jaw, pulling it firmly so she faced him. Then he took the blood-bag and forced it into her mouth, pressing so the blood filled her throat. She tried to resist, but found her arms glued to the chair by an invisible force, so all she could do was swallow the coppery liquid.

Alucard wanted to throttle her. One moment she was timid and eager to please, the next she was stubborn as a mule and infuriating. Even more confusing was that he wasn't sure exactly how he _wanted_ her to act; obedience was a double-edged blade, for on one hand she'd do everything he said, but on the other hand she would become dependent on him. Her stubbornness certainly kept him from having her do as he said, but it also set his concerns for her independence at ease.

He _did_ know that he wanted her respect. She could fight it all she liked, but it would not change the fact he was her master, from now until he decided to release her. No more would he allow her to fawn over the human, or anyone else but himself. He had no desire to hurt her, but her defiance was testing his self-control. If she wanted to do things the hard way, he would not deny her.

Seras felt herself slipping into her own vampiric blood-lust, wanting to bite and tear and claw, but another feeling rose up in her. She found herself staring hungrily at Alucard's neck, even though the bag was still in her mouth and not yet empty. Alucard noticed, his evil smile returning.

"It seems you're thirsty after all." He said, and she glanced at his face, her voice of reason returning to power. His hand gently tugged the bag from her mouth, and she did not resist. His red eyes held hers for an instant, before his grin grew wider and he leaned closer, his face coming dangerously near to hers.

"As much as you test my patience, my little fledgling, you also amuse me to no end."

His mouth came within an inch of hers, and Seras was suddenly overcome with a torrent of strange and heated emotions. She blushed a deep shade of red but did not move, half out of fear and half out of anticipation, for what she could not understand.

"I will not allow you to run away again, you realize." He crooned, and her eyes widened. "You belong to me. And I will not give you up so easily."

Alucard's words made her angry all over again. With a furious growl she tried to kick him, but he just dodged it, chuckling and pulling away.

"How many times must I tell you?!" she screeched, leaping to her feet. "I'm not yours! I'm not _anybody's_!

"Why can't you understand I'm not your plaything?!"

"Ah, but you are." Alucard said, making his way to the nearest wall. He began to melt into it once again, leaving her there to stare. "The sooner you understand that, the sooner you'll realize that resisting me is a foolish and futile effort."

He gave her one last grin before saying, "See you tonight, draculina."

He disappeared, and Seras stood there, angry, confused and frustrated.

How could he be so cruel and coercing and still invoke feelings of wanting to please him? Half of her wanted to gut him with a pickaxe, and the other wanted his praise and approval. Her body was so filled with emotions she thought she might break.

She moaned in frustration and fell into the dark confines of her new coffin, closing it with a satisfying thunk.

_Plaything, huh? Well, we'll see about that! _She thought pulling the fleece blanket over her body and smirking. _I'll show him I'm not the weak little fledgling I was. _

_I'll show them _all.

* * *

_"I bring good news, Supreme One."_

_The figure seated at the chess table quirked their shadowed head. _

_"Good news? Pray tell, dear one."_

_"It seems your pawn infiltrated the enemy ranks and delivered the message you entrusted him with." The first figure replied, slightly nervous._

_"I take it the enemy rook was not taken?" the second asked, taking the corresponding white rook in her fingers. _

_"No, Supreme One. He's injured, but alive."_

_"Ah, well," the second figure waved their other hand dismissively, "not all campaigns are totally successful. But _she_ was contacted, correct?"_

_"Yes. Ormith also gave them the address of the meeting point, under pretence of reluctance, of course."_

_The seated figure picked up a tiny, black pawn situated on the opposite side of the board, among the white pieces. She stroked it gently, almost motherly, before dropping it on the floor. It shattered into a million tiny, ebony pieces._

"_Before the Black Knight does his duty, I want Ormith dealt with. His purpose has been fulfilled."_

"_Yes, but…"_

"_But?" the seated figure asked._

"_It seems a priest from the Vatican has caught wind of the situation. He's also heading to the rendezvous point." The first figure answered uncertainly. _

"_Excellent!" the second figure said. "I could not have asked for better fortune!"_

_The figure held out her hand, and there formed a tiny, golden piece from thin air. She placed it in front of a white knight and another odd-looking piece, shaped in the form of a tiny, crowned woman._

"_While the Queen's Knight is distracted with this new Gold Bishop," the figure said, picking up another piece, "their precious Ebony Princess shall be whisked from underneath their noses!"_

_The piece she placed in front of the princess was a black knight. However, it was hard to tell that it was a knight because the top was completely missing, showing only a horse's neck._

"_Dearest one, I trust you to this task. Make sure the Black Knight does no harm to our Ebony Princess." The second figure ordered._

"_As you wish, Supreme One." _

* * *

**Reviews are very much like chips. You can't have just one, and the flaming ones get thrown out the window! **


	5. Chapter 5: Moons

**I'm so sorry for the long wait. The next chapter is coming along, but until then enjoy the fruits of my labour. It's short, but quality work, i assure.**

* * *

"_What,_" Joshua exclaimed, his face contorted in horror, "is _this_?!"

He and Walter stood in one of Hellsing's lower rooms, situated at the very core of the impossibly large mansion. The room itself was lined with ancient bricks and lit only by a few light bulbs. Unlike most of the lower rooms, like Seras's bedroom, the walls were not damp or tinged with mould, indicating the room was considered important enough to be kept dry and humanly habitable. Besides this, the only things of notice in the room were a chair and desk.

However, on the desk sat the object of Joshua's intense horror and disbelief; a large, clunky and dust-covered computer, attached to an equally antiquated fax machine.

Beside him, Walter coughed nervously and stated,

"It's our computer database, of course."

Joshua craned his head with agonizing slowness to glare at the aging retainer, his eye twitching and making poor Walter extremely uncomfortable.

"_This,_" Joshua snarled, pointing to the offending item, "Is _not_ a computer. It's an honest-to-god dinosaur exhibit!"

Joshua stomped over to the desk, dragging Walter with him and pointing again.

"You see this screen? I couldn't fit this thing in a _truck_. These wires? A tangled-up death trap, that's what this is!"

Walter rolled his eyes and sighed as Joshua continued his rant. It wouldn't do much good to explain that Hellsing had very few uses for computers, being an old-fashioned organization and preferring to do things according to tradition. Sir Integra was adamant about sticking with phone-lines and face-to-face meetings, all too aware of the hackers and viruses that could potentially cripple the organization if they relied on the internet to communicate. As such, Hellsing had very few computers dedicated to the organization, and only one of these had internet.

However, Malcolm had insisted that Joshua have access to the Hellsing database, a complete record of Hellsing's operations. Malcolm, despite belief to the contrary, had minimal experience with computers and instead relied on Joshua, CBANW's best Linkmaster, to handle such things. Walter had no idea what Malcolm was searching for, though his experience told him that, despite Malcolm's appearance of a jolly and good-natured employer, he had motives other than simple "staying up-to-date".

Unfortunately for Joshua, the Hellsing "database" consisted of a single computer, and an outdated one at that. And by outdated, one would say it was the bottom rung on the ladder of evolution.

"In the words of the immortal Charlie Brown… GOOD GRIEF!" Joshua proclaimed, pulling up a chair and hunkering in front of the computer, contemplating it with thoughtful frustration. Several minutes passed before he straightened, flexing his fingers determinedly. "Alrighty-then, let's see what this old maid can do."

Walter watched with interest as Joshua managed to bring the computer to sputtering life. Lights flickered beneath an unhealthy coating of grime and dust. Joshua's hands flew across the keyboard in unparalleled speed, the clacking sounds barely keeping up with the deftness of his fingers.

"Hey, gramps? Would ya mind handin' me the hard drive in my bag?"

"I beg your pardon?!" Walter demanded, puffing out his chest indignantly. Ever a master of the British gentlemen's arts, even in his ugliest moments Walter retained a certain courteous manner.

Joshua swivelled in his chair to turn and regard the angry retainer in a haughty manner, not understanding how his words had affected him.

"Y'know, a hard drive?" Joshua lowered his voice, rolling his eyes. "Metal box with holes in it? Do you need a picture or something?"

At that moment, Joshua cell phone began to ring. He whipped it out quickly, remaining unaware that Walter was now looming dangerously over him, slowly slipping on a pair of black gloves.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Joshua?" Seras asked, holding the cell phone to her ear. "How're things holding up over there?"

_"There's good news and bad news. The bad news is that the so-called Hellsing database is a disaster. I didn't even know they _had_ a Windows 0.14236. And I'm pretty sure this thing is emitting radioactive crap all over the place."_

"Oh, come on, I'm sure it's not that bad." Seras said assuredly.

_"You're not the one touching it. Oh, look, an extra toe."_

Seras sighed and leaned back against the truck, her legs crossed beneath her sitting frame. Behind her, Hellsing soldiers ran from place to place, blockading the road. In the corner of her eye she could see the old, rickety and dusty excuse for an office building that was the center of everyone's attention. According to the briefing, it was once an important marketing firm- however, it had been abandoned in favour of a more fire-proof building. It was very large, but no one had thought to replace the wooden frame with cement. At the very least, the roof was changed from shingled slopes to a flat surface.

It bothered her that it was much quieter than any other target zone she'd ever seen. Where were the vampires? Where were the ghouls? Even if the vampires were cowards, you could always rely on a hungry ghoul or two to stumble out into the open, being the brain-dead lumps of flesh they are. However, here was a supposed headquarters for their mysterious enemy, and yet there were no defences or even a trace of undead.

Seras quickly tore her mind back to the conversation.

"Well, then, what's the good news?"

"_The good news is, I'm fresh out of bad news. You'll have to wait until I'm in the hospital, having mutations pulled out my ass."_

Seras sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"_Anyway, I'm gonna switch to the headset.......!?"_

"Joshua?" Seras cried, worry washing over her body. "Are you okay?"

"_Hey, let go, you old geezer-"_ Seras heard him say to someone on the other end, before another, familiar voice was heard.

"_Hello, Ms. Victoria."_ Seras heard Walter say, sounding as if he were struggling with something. In the background, she heard Joshua strangled protests. _"I wanted to wish you and Alucard luck."_

"Oh." Seras said, a tiny sliver of worry removed at his pleasant tone. She'd been concerned that Walter would remain aloof- he certainly had a right to be, after her apparent betrayal.

"Thank you, Walter." she finally murmured. "I mean it."

A quiet pause followed afterwards, until at at last she heard _"You're very welcome, Seras."_

A huge smile lit on her face. Perhaps returning wasn't _all_ bad.

"_Pardon my saying so, but you seemed rather… reluctant, at the briefing when we announced the mission. Did Alucard… misplace his manners again?"_

"That's a nice way to put it." Seras replied dryly, her good mood slipping as she quickly skimmed her gaze over the uniformed crowd. No seven-foot, red-clothed vampires in sight. She exhaled in relief.

"_I really _must_ have a long talk with him. His behaviour has been dreadfully poor lately. Or perhaps Sir Integra-"_

"Thanks, but no thanks, Walter. I'll deal with the old windbag on _my _terms." Seras interrupted, quickly said goodbye and snapped the cell phone shut.

The last thing she wanted was for Integra to get involved in this. Integra held little enough trust in her as is; begging for help would only deepen that lack of trust. How could she ever be taken seriously by anyone if she ran to others to solve her problems? Seras wanted to be _respected_, and in order to do that…

Seras rested her head on her hand and exhaled. Although she wanted-no, _needed_- to deal with Alucard on her own, it was becoming increasingly clear just how difficult a task it was. He had every advantage available: age, experience, power, rank. Whereas Seras had jack-_squat_.

_Get a grip!_ Seras thought, suddenly furious with herself. _What will moping solve? Just go out there and show them what you're made of! _

Seras brightened with renewed determination. She wasn't helpless- she had quite a few new tricks up her sleeve. Tricks even fancy-pants Alucard would have to recognize!

"Fancy-pants?"

Seras froze in the middle of her one-person pep talk.

Oh, god, no.

"I must admit, Police girl, I'm wounded. That whole time I was looking for you, you were hiding here, thinking cruel thoughts about me."

Seras looked up to see Alucard looming over her, his arm resting against the hood of the truck, supporting his head. The other hand was draped across the hood, fingers leisurely tapping out a rhythm. He bore a wolfish grin on his face, accentuated by his glinting fangs.

She quickly squelched her initial panic and replied coolly,

"I was hardly _hiding_. I just fancy a little privacy once in a while. Not that you care."

"You're right." Alucard said, removing his glasses and idly twirled them with his fingers, continuing to watch her. "I don't."

Her brows furrowed in frustration and she tore her eyes away, pouting. They both stayed silent for a few moments, neither breathing or moving.

Alucard contemplated his little fledgling-no, not so little anymore. She was now a warrior in her own right, and wasn't afraid to stand up to him. She drank her blood without complaint, and could even harness some measure of her vampiric powers.

All without his help.

_That_ particular piece of information left a bitter taste in his mouth. Perhaps it was merely his old-fashioned thinking, but since when could a vampire's apprentice- one who owed him _everything_- suddenly pick up and leave without so much as a "farewell?" And the worst part of it was she chose to _replace_ him with some spineless, worthless, helpless little-

His train of thought was broken when Seras pushed off the ground to stand, dusting off her knees. She then turned and gave him a barely masked glare of defiance.

"You know what? I'm bloody _glad_ that you don't care." She growled.

"Is that so?" Alucard purred, ignoring the various stares they were attracting.

"Yes, and just so you understand, the feeling's quite _mutual_." Seras snarled angrily and, much to his surprise, jabbed her finger against his chest with every syllable. "Right now, as far as I'm concerned, you could get staked, baptized and bloody _crucified_- and I wouldn't bat a lash."

She glared into his crimson eyes and felt no fear. Nothing but a terrible frustration at his lack of reaction and a maddening, unfathomable _yearning_ that she didn't understand, or know how to fulfill. Though, at this point, his severed head on a pike sounded very satisfying.

"Now, I meant what I said; I'm going to spare no effort in trying to get along with you. I'm willing to put up with a lot of your childish bullshit and seriously irritating issues, but that does _not_ mean-" she continued, relishing when she felt a twinge of indignation pass through their telepathic connection, "- that I'm going to be your meek little plaything anymore. Our relationship from this point on is purely professional."

Seras then proceeded to swivel on her feet and walk in the opposite direction, Alucard watching the subtle sway of her hips at her exit. Then he smiled.

If nothing else were to come of her stubborn antics, she had certainly become much more interesting!

* * *

Seras waited patiently, her back pressed against the cool wall. In her hands she held her small, military-issued pistol, and she kept her arms close to her chest, in the same position she'd been taught in the police academy.

"_Okay." _she heard Joshua say, accompanied by a series of clicks and beeps. _"The Hellsing soldiers are going to come in through the hatch at the roof. You guys will clear out the lower levels. That sound cool?"_

"That's fine, Joshua." Seras said quietly, her eyes set on the wooden door to her left. She kept perfectly still, wary of what might lie in wait beyond it.

"_How's Big Red?"_

As if on cue, Alucard emerged from the shadows of the alley, twin pistols drawn from the depths of his scarlet cloak and glinting in the slivers of moonlight. He flashed Seras an evil grin before standing in front of the door.

"He's fine." Seras replied, before rolling her eyes at the elder vampire and remarking snarkily, "It's about time; I've been waiting here for ten minutes."

"Patience is a virtue." Alucard replied evenly, not skipping a beat.

"You're one to talk." Seras huffed, but dragged her attention to the matter at hand. "Anyway, there's about twenty floors. The first ten or twelve are for us; the others are on clean up duty."

"I think we're being underestimated." Alucard said grumpily, glancing upward at the many rows of darkened, grime-covered windows. After a moment, a malevolent thought seemed to cross his mind and he turned back to Seras, a rather mischievous look on his face. "Why don't we make this a little more… fun?"

"Fun?" Seras raised an eyebrow, wary but intrigued. "How so?"

Alucard's smile widened, and he replied, "The one who kills the most trash wins a prize from the other. How does that sound?"

Seras contemplated this for a moment. She had to admit, it _did_ sound a lot more fun than just going in and killing ghouls. But on the other hand, she didn't much like the subtly lecherous tone Alucard had when he said "prize".

Even so…

"All right." She said, and Alucard smiled even more gleefully. "But the prize can't be anything dirty, okay?"

"Done." He answered triumphantly and, without any warning, he kicked down the door with a deafening smash and swept into the building, his red coat billowing.

* * *

"_My ladies."_

_The man's voice echoed into the darkness of the chamber._

_The recipient reclined on a great throne-like lounge, settled on a dais in the middle of a deep, dark room. Silk scarves in red and black were wrapped carelessly around long, blood-spattered pillars, weaving a lazy web from one end of the suite to the other. Soft pillows were strewn like flower petals all along the chamber's floor, and several vanities of menacing size decorated the walls. The mirrors were criss-crossed with cobwebs and violent cracks, seemingly intentional._

"_Mm?" One shatteringly lovely voice crooned, followed by a lithe body raising itself up from a particularly large pile of pillows. Then another voice, far more authoritative, murmured, _

" _Don't trouble yourselves. Let _me_ handle these… petty matters. Go back to sleep."_

"_You're so bossy." A third voice giggled childishly. Then the two voices fell silent into the shadows. _

_The eldest, it seemed, strode forth from the bedchamber, hands clutching delicately a small monitor._

"_Tell me, my dear one," she said, her stride long and full of purpose, "how fares our little playground? Have the children come to play?"_

"_Yes, my lady." The male responded, voice slightly garbled from the camera. _

* * *

Seras raced in after him, cursing herself for giving him a head start. As if she needed another disadvantage!

Thankfully, she heard no gunshots. Yet.

The door led into a dark hallway, the walls splattered with black, caked blood and bullet shells littered the floor. The metallic smell of blood made her mouth water, but she ignored it and sped down the hallway, her master already out of sight. Despite his tall stature and usually lumbering stride, he could be frighteningly fast when he wanted to.

Seras quickly pressed her back against the wall to her left, purely out of careful habit. Surely, she reasoned, there must be a few enemies guarding the back entrance. She reached out with her mind, searching for the tiniest glimmer of consciousness…

"There!" she cried, wrenching the door to her right wide open, and found the source of what she'd felt: a lone ghoul, hunched over the corpse of some poor, unlucky civilian.

She quickly raised her gun and shot the ghoul in the head, as well as the corpse, to keep another ghoul from being formed. Still hearing no gunshots, she realized she was already ahead in the game by two.

Smiling, she ran out of the room, searching out another target. Alucard was right- this was fun!

* * *

Alucard heard the two gunshots with perfect clarity, and was startled. How had he managed to miss two targets?! Now she was winning- something he hadn't expected for a single moment. However, he also felt Seras's exhilaration, which excited and fuelled him even more.

Deciding that having a challenge would be more entertaining, he felt no resentment and instead stretched out his mind, feeling for a target. At last he smelled fresh blood and lunged forward, punching a bullet through the glass window of one door before moving on, delighting in the echoing cry of a disintegrating ghoul that followed his departure.

Turning a corner, he saw a group of ghouls slowly staggering towards him, no doubt drawn by the unfamiliar sounds of ammunition. Aiming, he dispatched them one by one, the mindless undead falling before the onslaught with no more resistance than grains of wind-swept sand. He then withdrew, feeling the whole floor to be cleared. Below him, he heard his fledgling do away with four more ghouls. He had a wild desire to watch her in her prime, to see her kill and drink by his side. Quickly smothering it, he reminded himself there'd be time enough for that later; now, he must win their little wager and claim his prize.

His insane revelry began to manifest itself, shadows stretching out from his body and licking the bloodstained walls. He laughed, the sound reverberating throughout the darkened building- he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed a hunt so much! Now here he was, challenging his fledgling and finding himself a rival.

Then, as if on purpose, he felt it. The presence of a large, threatening force.

Remaining still, he focused on it, concentrating. It wasn't a ghoul, or a vampire, for that matter. But neither could it be called human, not in the traditional sense. A man, walking with purpose... followed by the vague sound of fluttering pages and the foul scent of holy water.

Then, opening his eyes, he smiled.

"We meet again, Judas Priest."

* * *

**The rating may go up in later chapters, mainly for violence. **


	6. Chapter 6: Games

**Surprise**!

* * *

In hindsight, perhaps it had been a bad idea.

To begin with, the building was obviously a trap. She'd known it- surely Integra and Malcolm knew it. There was obviously no doubt Alucard had known about it, but this sort of thing was his cup of tea- a big, gory, blood-bath brand of tea.

Then there was, as she would no doubt refer to it later on, the notorious "wager". As of yet she could not quite say who was winning (although she had the sinking feeling that it would not matter in the end- Alucard was not exactly known for his good sportsmanship) and, even more worrying, there didn't seem an end to it.

Seras was only on the third level of the building, and somehow the number of ghouls had exploded from merely a dozen flimsy corpses to nearly forty, and still counting. Even at that moment she was emptying an entire magazine into a particularly resilient group, stumbling towards her, mouths gaping.

Pulling the trigger again, she found the barrel empty.

Yes. A very bad idea.

With a cry of frustration she flung her useless pistol to the ground, swiftly drawing her Baphomet rifle. Eyeing the group, she took aim and fired, decimating a good half dozen of the enemies and crippling several others, severing their legs by aiming slightly lower than she would normally. A good move- she could already see the end of the hallway. Rushing forward, she slammed the butt of her rifle into the sternum of one ghoul and kicked the legs out from underneath two others- then shot each unfortunate soul in the skull. In the back of her mind, her vampiric subconscious tallied up each of her kills for her. One of the few perks she rather enjoyed in being a vampire.

The smell of blood was overwhelming, but her instincts informed her that the blood was old- therefore unappetizing. Nonetheless, her stomach growled beseechingly at her, and she was unable to quell it. Climbing over the remains of her victims, her gaze fell upon the headless body of a more recent kill- probably someone off the street, dragged inside to serve as a meal. For this particular sight, her instincts seemed to have so problems. Neither did her hunger.

Just as her fangs began to lengthen, she realized what she was doing and wrenched backward, shame washing over her in a torrent.

_No!_ she screamed at herself. _NO!_

Seemingly chastised, her hunger abated somewhat and she proceeded, anger at her own body making her eager for another group of ghouls to show up.

If she couldn't satisfy one craving, she'd indulge the other.

He could barely contain his excitement.

Whirling around, Alucard embedded bullets into all the surrounding walls, leaving a weaving line of holes as far as he could see. For some unidentifiable reason, he was unable to pinpoint Anderson's location- his smell seemed to come from every direction. But this did not discourage him in the slightest: he rather enjoyed a good hunt.

"Alexander Anderson!" he roared gleefully, his voice mocking. "Since when did the Vatican become such cowards, to hide in the shadows?"

No reply, but if he wasn't mistaken he could sense a certain hackled response.

Grinning, he continued down the hallway, vaguely acknowledging Seras's exploits on the lower levels. He'd prefer she not get involved- both for her own sake, and for the sake of his enjoyment.

Silence continued to be his companion, and now the only things he heard were the muffled gunshots below and his own heavy footsteps on the floor, leaving bloody footprints.

Then, a sound.

Jerking to the side he blew the entire wall open, unloading both pistols in the direction of the movement he'd heard. Smiling, he entered through his homemade doorway, fully expecting to see his foe.

What he did _not_ expect to see was a weak vampire, gagged, wracked against the wall and writhing in pain. He was impaled by a pair of bayonets through each of his palms, slowly disintegrating from the blessed blades.

Alucard frowned in disappointment, and then unceremoniously yanked a new cartridge from his coat, ignoring the vampire's cries.

"Help me!" he screamed, his voice garbled from the blood filling his mouth. Alucard didn't respond, sliding the pistol's compartments back into place with a resounding click.

"Please! God, please-"

"Shut up."

A single shot, and the vampire was spread across the boarded windows. Unaffected, Alucard dusted off his blood-spattered sleeves and turned around.

He wondered if taking out Anderson's trash would count as a kill.

Seras heard the deafening thunder of several dozen shots up above, and peered up curiously. Surely Alucard wouldn't use _that_ many just for ghouls, would he?

Then she smelt it. The unmistakable blend of incense, steel and blood that forever haunted her thoughts, and the invisible scar on her neck began to throb ominously.

Him.

Gritting her teeth, Seras picked up speed, reaching for the doors to the stairwell- only to be repelled by an invisible force. Paying no attention to the rapidly healing burns on her hands, she studied the other side of the glass doors- and saw pages nailed to the other side by a bayonet. So, this time he intended to keep her _out_ rather than in, did he?

She hurried to the adjacent elevator, the power long since cut. Digging her hands into the doors, Seras slowly forced them open, metal grinding on metal. As soon as she could fit between, she slipped inside… and nearly fell down the empty shaft.

Stifling a frightened squeak, she stepped backwards onto firm ground. Then she looked up. The wall of the shaft had a rusted metal ladder, going all the way up.

Taking a few deep, calming breaths, she steadied her gaze on the nearest rung. As she did so, she willed her body to change form- willowy shadows replacing her human-like flesh, her tiny fangs now long and razor-sharp. Her spine cracked and stretched, and suddenly she felt as agile and flexible as a snake. With barely a twitch from her muscles she launched herself at the metal bar, clasping it in her black claws.

Her senses locating the source of the strong, familiar scent, she began to climb her way up the shaft.

Just as Alucard stepped back through the impressive hole he'd made, out of the corner of his eye he registered a blur of movement. Jerking backwards, a bayonet just grazed his nose before plunging into the elevator door at the end of the hall.

"Well, well. Yeh've gotten better since last time, monster."

Grinning, Alucard took in the profile of his rival emerging from the shadows. Garbed in priest's clothing and bearing two glinting bayonets in his hands, Father Alexander Anderson walked forward with purpose and conviction. He smiled, and though he had no fangs it was as frightful as Alucard's own.

"As have you, Judas Priest." Alucard replied, his legs widening into a more battle-suited stance. "How _did_ you manage this little trick?"

"Simple." Anderson said, sharpening his blades on each other. "Ah merely filled this floor with the church incense ah always use." His thick accent was laced with more than a hint of bloodlust.

"How devious of you- can you really call yourself a man of God?" Alucard taunted, gleefully raising his pistols towards his rival.

It was not often that Alucard could face a truly powerful foe- the days of true warriors had been replaced by rich men with connections. And, while blowing the brains out of such garbage had its own little charms, nothing could quite compare to the sight of glittering metal in the hands of a well-trained maniac.

This time, there was no hesitation. Anderson shot forward, bayonets held out to slice Alucard to ribbons. Alucard dodged the attack, deftly shifting to the side just as Anderson recovered and buried a blade in his side.

Alucard barely acknowledged the protruding metal, too busy blasting two full magazines at Anderson's head. Blood sprayed outwards and stained the dingy walls.

Anderson recovered from the blows and tightened his grip on the bayonet, twisting and tearing it out of the vampire.

"Ah do the work of God, that his children shall not. If I must sin tae flush out the sinners-"

He spun and sank the blade into Alucard's neck, forcing the metal through his other cheek.

"- then so be it! Amen!"

Alucard let loose an animal growl and slammed the butt of his pistol into Anderson's temple, before taking the other and planting two bullets into the priest's skull. Both jumped backwards- one bleeding profusely from the head, the other leisurely extracting the blade from his face.

"I retract my previous statement." Alucard drawled, lazily tossing aside the bayonet. "You haven't improved. You've just become… impatient. More amusing."

Anderson snatched another bayonet from the confines of his robe.

"Damn ye tae-"

A deafening bang rang out from across the hall.

They both looked to the source. The elevator door sported a massive dent. Another followed with equal force.

"Another trick, monster?" Anderson snarled, one blade pointed at Alucard and the other at the door. Alucard, by contrast, had a mixed expression of interest and frustration.

The twin doors flew off their hinges and fell to the ground, revealing the black, swirling mass inside.

"Hello, Police Girl."

"Is there no word from inside?" Malcolm demanded, wincing when he tried to sit up.

"Communications died halfway up. And you _know_ that my tech is the best." Joshua replied. He sat to Malcolm's left, tapping angrily at the keyboard. "No audio, no video- just goddamn static!"

Integra stood in the doorway, a cigar at her lips, silent.

"As soon as you have any kind of contact, get Seras out immediately." Malcolm said.

"Why?" Integra asked abruptly, grabbing their attention. "Seras is adequately trained, is she not?"

"Of course." Malcolm replied, with some indignation. "I trust Seras with my life- it's _Alucard_ I don't trust."

Integra's gaze turned hard. "Are you implying that Alucard would disobey me and harm her?"

Malcolm sighed and pushed a hand through his mussed hair- an action Integra realized she'd followed.

"Maybe not physically, but emotionally? Psychologically? I've been led to believe he enjoys his mind games almost as much as killing."

Integra flicked her cigar.

"If Seras is capable of eluding both Alucard and my organization, she can handle a little game of cat and mouse."

* * *

**SO. TIRED.**


End file.
